


Miss Me?

by Mad_Mads



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, M/M, Shameless Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Mads/pseuds/Mad_Mads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months after Jim's death Sebastian finally learns that Jim isn't dead at all and that the game is not over yet. </p><p> </p><p>(Starts with the end of season 2 and will cover season 4 including Jim's "miss me" plan.)</p><p>IRREGULAR UPDATES UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks! 
> 
> Please be gentle - this is my first English fanfiction. Inform me about any repetitive mistakes (so I can improve). I have rewritten the prologue multiple times and I'm still not happy with it but if I keep holding it back they'll air season 10 before I'm done procrastinating. 
> 
> I WILL ADD CHARACTER TAGS AS THE STORY PROCEEDS. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this journey as much as I do,  
> Mads.

Prologue

**I O U**

 

__No._ _

 Sebastian pressed the scope of his rifle hard against his face. Shock flooded his body, followed by disbelief and horror.

  _ _No. Jim.__

 The world seemed to slow down. His heart started pounding forcefully against his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage, the blood rushing through his veins numbing him. The traffic noises disappeared until the only sound left was his own panting. A slight flickering impaired his view where the scope's metal ring cut painfully into his eye. He didn't care. 

 Two rooftops ahead Jim's body collapsed in slow-motion.

  _ _Jim.__

 Sebastian pushed his rifle aside. He was meant to stay, it was his job, he had  _promised_  Jim to stay no matter what - and now this order finally made some sense to him - but he couldn't. He simply couldn't. He had to check on Jim, had to see the truth with his own eyes. There had to be some kind of trick, a greater plan, no way Jim would just shoot himself. Not after everything that had happened, not after the past year, not after...  But then this was about Sherlock. Sherlock fucking Holmes. And Jim had proven to be very unpredictable when it came to the detective.

 Sebastian disassembled his rifle with nimble movements and shoved it carelessly back in his bag. He could see Holmes standing on the edge of the Bart's rooftop. Jim's plan had been to kill Holmes, a cunning checkmate after a chess game full of living tokens, inscrutable moves and alleged regressions. And Sebastian had awaited this day eagerly - the day when their fairly new flat screen would finally show anything but the live coverage from 221B's living room. Over the last weeks this had taken up most of their time. Every other evening Jim had asked Sebastian to read John Watson's blog out aloud while he was sprawled over his beloved Versace armchair wearing nothing but a pair of Sebastian's old sweatpants and his favourite gown, eyes closed, hands neatly folded on top of his chest. Sebastian always loved reading to Jim even when he wished for another kind of lecture.

 Nausea hit him as he stumbled down the stairway. He'd never read to Jim again.

  _ _Oh Jim.__

 He could hear the gun shot echoing through his mind. Again and again and  _again_. His hands found the front door and pushed it open. The world kept spinning. He tried to recap the gun's exact position, the angle of the shot but his view had been partly blocked by Holmes' body. Sebastian knew that getting shot was only fatal 5 percent of the time if one got to a Doctor early enough as long as heart and brain - particularly brain stem - were still intact. But this was about James Moriarty and James Moriarty never failed. A suicide would be some way of morbid brilliance, a perfectly staged ending. Jim had always been a drama queen.

 Jim and Sherlock, two of a kind.

 Was Jim insane enough to simply kill himself just to surprise Sherlock? Just to somehow  _win_  the little game of theirs? 

 Yes, _definitely_. 

 Jim's obsession with the sociopathic detective had been taking on a dramatic scale a long time ago. Sebastian had seen it all coming but this was not the ending he had expected. Not at all. 

 

Sebastian saw John Watson standing in the middle of the street, staring up to the edge of the roof, staring up to Sherlock Holmes. Even though he was certain that neither Holmes nor Watson knew about his existence he didn't want to risk anything. With a calm pace he crossed the street several feet behind Watson. He nearly crashed into a guy sitting on his bike. Sebastian mumbled an apology.

 From the corner of his eye he suddenly saw a black figure falling from the sky.

 _Holmes_.

Behind him Watson yelled the detective's name and started running. Sebastian didn't waste a second to look back, he sprinted along the building without even glimpsing at the crowd that was gathering around Holmes' body.

 So Holmes was finally gone. At least.

 

Sebastian made his way to the roof. He knew he didn't have much time - Holmes' elder brother would send his people within minutes and Sebastian was definitely not interested in meeting the man who had tortured Jim for days. At least not with his hands in chains.

He dropped his bag. The parts of his precious rifle hit the ground with an unpleasant noise but right now he couldn't care less.

  _ _Jim.__

 The small, vulnerable body was sprawled over the floor and the pool of blood underneath his head was still growing. Sebastian fell down on his knees.

"Jim." His voice was nothing more than a whisper. Leather-cled fingers traced over Jim's jaw, cupped his cheek, softly caressed the skin.

 

Sebastian was not an emotional man. He was certainly aware of his feelings but due to his high pain tolerance and all the things he'd already been through he normally didn't feel the need to express them. And he couldn't remember the last time he had actually cried without being tortured.

 But now he couldn't help crying.

 He didn't even try to stifle the first, deep sob shaking his entire body. He clutched Jim's clothes with trembling hands, tears running down his face.

"You bloody bastard."

 So this was Jim's glorious exit. End of act three. Curtain call. The king was gone and left his mourning people behind. Sebastian closed his eyes and kissed Jim gently on the lips. He could smell the bullet, the gun, the blood.

 "I love you, Jim."

 It was the truth. He did love him. Jim - this small, utterly insane smart-arse - meant the world to him. He had given up his entire life for him. And he knew Jim loved him back, in a weird twisted way.

 Had loved him back.

 Sebastian had never learned Jim's full story. Jim had never been particularly eager to talk about his past. Nevertheless it was obvious to Sebastian that Jim had had a severly troubled youth that lead to his ridiculous trust issues, his unability to believe in Sebastian's feelings and best intentions. Sebastian had never been enough for him.

 

He wiped his tears away and pulled Jim's mobile out of his pocket. Their text messages were rather delicate - concerning the job - and partially extremely explicit - concerning their private life - and most definitely not meant for Mycroft Holmes' eyes. Sebastian unlocked the phone. 0128, the RGB code of Jim's favourite colour. 0,128,128 - teal. An incredibly cute pug stared at him and made him smile. He had changed Jim's background to this as some sort of revenge but hadn't expected him to actually keep it. His own phone showed Jim's right hand buried into Sebastian's shirt. Jim had taken the picture after throwing another tantrum - his very own way of saying sorry. Because Jim never apologised.

 Sebastian rubbed his gloved thumb over the pug's puppy eyes before he opened the contacts app. He frowned. There was only one entry. Sherlock Holmes. Sebastian closed the app and looked through the messages. Again - only Sherlock. The phone was completely empty, no trace of Sebastian whatsoever - except for the pug.

"You..." He closed the apps and slid the mobile back into the pocket. The hot tears blurred his sight and dripped off his chin and nose and wet Jim's unfamilliarly blank face. He didn't want to leave.

  _Jim._

 He dried Jim's face and brushed his forehead with his lips, gently. One last time.

 "I love you."

 The noise that escaped his throat was a pure expression of despair. He stumbled backwards. The nausea slowly became excruciating. Sebastian struggled to his feet, there was so much pressure in his chest, so much pain. He had to leave, he had to leave  _now_ , but he didn't want to, he wanted to stay, wanted to hold Jim, wanted to make it all okay, somehow, he had to, had to do something, anything.

 

Finally he managed to fetch his bag, glancing back at Jim's dead body, just for one second.

 He cried out in bitter agony.

 This moment had been supposed to be a new beginning, after all those months of meticulous preparations during which Jim had unconsciously neglected their relationship.

Now it turned out to be the end.

 

Sebastian started running. He covered his flushed, puffy face with his hood and just ran. His circulation threatened to collapse, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. After three blocks he finally slowed down and stumbled into an alleyway. He fell against a dustbin and managed to open the lid just in time. The nausea overwhelmed him. He threw up until his body felt completely empty. The pressure was gone. He tried to catch his breath, his arms still wrapped around the smelly plastic.

 Today turned out to be one of the worst days of his life.

 Sebastian sighed and slid down to the floor. He found his mobile in his jacket's inside pocket. The display lit up and showed Jim's hand, five perfectly shaped fingers and Sebastian could remember their feeling against his skin. He placed his own hand just an inch over his heart, imitiating his background image. His heart throbbed forcefully against his fingers. Sebastian remained in that position for several minutes until he had calmed himself. He wiped the sweat and tears off his face and got up slowly.

 After all Sebastian was not an emotional man. And there was still a job to do and there was no room for mistakes.

 

 


	2. Chapter 1 - Wrong Day To Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you somehow managed to read the prologue - here's chapter 1.

Chapter 1 

**WRONG DAY TO DIE**

 

February was awful.

After weeks of erratic weather changes it had finally settled on some sort of sleeting, thick wet flakes that instantly drenched every inch of fabric they could reach. The sun hadn't been seen for three days in a row now, hiding frantically behind the heavy clouds that seemed to float only a few feet over Big Ben.

Sebastian had spent all of these days on another generic roof top, his hands leather-cled and buried deep in his pockets while his eyes kept scanning the seemingly empty office building across the street. Waiting normally didn't bother him - it was part of his job, but at this time of the year it was most certainly his least favourite one. Today his parka had given up his water resistance around noon. Now, nearly half a dozen hours later, he was soaked to the skin, slightly shivering as he pressed his bag closer to his chest when he left the tube at Bond Street.

He was still busy tracking down all the people involved in Jim's final plan, or at least the ones who knew too much. Most of them were clever enough to hide and he had wasted months threatening and torturing some small fish before he had finally been able to check some names off his list. And he had to be careful. Without Jim and his tight-knit network as source of information he had no clue how much Mycroft Holmes was still involved. Enquiring the matter on his own was far too dangerous - he was sure the Holmes brother had never acknowledged his existence or at least his connection to Jim and he wanted to keep it that way. So instead of making a few possibly helpful phone calls he spent even more time out in the cold wet, observing his targets carefully until he could rule out any interferences by Mycroft Holmes and his people.

He had dismantled the surveillance in 221B and destroyed every evidence of his connection to James Moriarty - except for the personal belongings which he stored in an anonymous stockroom - but he couldn't help his paranoia, he constantly felt watched and he couldn't get rid of that feeling. Prying eyes burning through his back on every corner, suspicious movements whenever he turned his head.

When he finally made it back to his flat -  __ their flat, Jim's flat  _ _ \- he glanced back over his shoulder before he opened the door and stopped dead. An indistinct movement caught his attention. Did the CCTV camera just move? It didn't - he knew it didn't - but he had to stare at it for a moment. He frowned at the device across the street until imaginary Jim clicked his tongue imitating a ticking clock. Sebastian shook his head and entered the lobby. The porter acknowledged his presence with a short nod before turning his attention back to his mobile. Sebastian didn't bother to greet him. He crossed the room, past the elevators. He prefered the stairs.

 

The young woman who had recently bought the ground-floor apartment was just about to open her door and waved at him when she recognised him, a bright smile on her face. He returned the gesture. After their initial meeting he had run a complete background check on her. So much about his paranoia.

"Oi! You look soaked. That bad outside?"

Her hair was damp and she carried a wet towel over her handbag, so she probably came straight from the in-house swimmingpool.

She - Cassey, Katey, Kathy?  __ Kathy. _ _ __ \- had won the lottery three months ago just to invest half of her winnings in this two bedroom apartment in Mayfair. Stupid idea if one asked him.

He nodded.

"Fancy a tea?", she asked suddenly and he knew exactly what she was suggesting. Her eyes were piercing his body - he had opened his parka and his completely soaked long-sleeved t-shirt showed off every single muscle. He was in excellent shape. Without Jim he actually had enough time to work out as much as he liked to. He tightened his grip around the duffle bag that contained his rifle.

"No, thank you."

Jim would have gutted her immediatly if he had witnessed her blunt approach. Sebastian turned towards the stairs, smiling at imaginary Jim's facial expression but came to a halt when another thought crossed his mind.  __ Jim was dead _ _ . And he could really use some distraction after the last three days. Just some time to relax and lose a bit of tension. Maybe he was lucky and she was interested in some extremely rough sex. He faced her to study her appearance. Normally he had close to no interest in sex with women but as long as she was willing to bend down and do as he told her he was willing to make an exception. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

She was completely ordinary. Fake ginger - her blonde hairline was showing - average physique, pale blue eyes, thin lips. Her fingernails were painted in a bright red that jarred with her hair. Her clothes were expensive - probably not expensive enough for Mayfair standards though - but they didn't suit her properly. It was just a bit too much of everything, a typical thing for London.

"You sure?" She played with her keys. Imaginary Jim frowned at him, clearly disgusted by the thought of Sebastian having sex with this woman. A sudden glimpse of guilt flashed. Sebastian decided against the offer.

"Maybe later", he answered with a wink and started climbing the stairs. Imaginary Jim appeared to be very pleased with himself. Sebastian opened his bag and angled for his keys, finally finding them the moment he reached the apartment door. He unlocked the three locks - he had changed them all after Jim's death - and pushed the door open. A joyful whimper sounded and an honest smile appeared on Sebastian's face. He got on his knees. This was so much better than possible sex with some woman.

"Hey Teal." The five months old pug puppy ran around the corner and jumped into his arms. He looked exactly like the pug on Jim's mobile background. That had been his reason for buying the dog, an unusual rise of sentiment.

 

One month ago he had spent some days in the countryside, looking for Jim's  __ smart boy, _ _  an eighteen year old IT student with an incredible skill set. Somehow the boy had disappeared and Sebastian was about to give up when he met the boy's former mentor whose pug had just given birth to a handful beautiful puppies. When he had left two hours later he was still clueless about the boy's whereabouts but was holding a squeaking puppy in his arms.

Teal licked Sebastian's face and he carefully wrapped his arms around the small body.

"Good dog." Sebastian dug his nose into the short fur, a sigh escaping him. The way this little animal trusted him touched him more than he'd liked to admit. He had grown so accustomed to Jim's constant distance that he actually felt overwhelmed every time he cuddled with Teal. There was no such thing as cuddling with James Moriarty.

"Miss me?", he asked grinning and nudged Teal's nose. The pug squeaked happily.

"Yes? Did you miss me boy?" Sebastian tried to ignore imaginary Jim's raised eyebrows. Granted, his high pitched voice was very uncharacteristic for him but right now he couldn't care less. He had struggled more than expected after Jim's death. Teal was helping.

 

After a few more minutes he finally let Teal jump out of his arms and slowly struggled to his feet. His back ached.

__ Hell, _ _  he definitely needed a shower. And dinner. Sebastian peeled off his soaked parka, toed off his shoes and put them on the shoe rack. Even eight months after Jim's death he still lived by all the rules concerning their household. Jim had hated any kind of mess in the apartment. Everything had his place. Sebastian clipped his rifle on its bracket and closed the cupboard. With Teal close to his heels he entered the living area, a generous room with an open plan kitchen, a gigantic grey sofa, makassar ebony furniture and Jim's beloved Versace armchair. Sebastian pulled his phone out and plugged it to the receiver. He flipped through the menu until he found what he was looking for, pressed a button and put the phone down on the sideboard.

"Message 1: Thursday, July 2nd. 11:22." The line crackled.

"Moooooraaaaan." Jim's high-pitched voice actually sang his name. "Pick up the phone or I will castrate you." Sebastian smiled fondly and opened the fridge. There was only some beer and eggs left. He sighed.

"Message 2: Sunday, July 12th. 8:07."

"Where are you? I'm bored." Jim yelled the last word furiously.

"Message 3: Wednesday, July 15th. 5:48." The day of Jim's death. He had worked half the night and when he came home Jim had already been gone.

"Ladys and gentlemen!" Jim laughed hysterically. "Tsk. Please remain seated until the seat belt sign has been turned off." Sebastian could nearly hear Jim rolling his eyes. "Or until the curtain closes. Whatever!" Jim cleared his throat. "Take care, polar bear. And bye, said the fly."

The computer voice told him that there were no more messages. Sebastian turned some music on. Jim's last words haunted him. Did he really intend alluding to their first meeting or was it a mere coincidence?

Sebastian remembered it only too well.

 

He'd been frowning at the old jukebox in the darkest corner of his currently favourite pub for far too long, undecided about both the next song and his next drink, when a stranger appeared next to him and simply pressed one of the numbers. Bill Haley's "See You Later Alligator". Sebastian hated this song. What a stupid, __ __ stupid _ _  song. Deeply annoyed he turned to face the stranger but choked on his words when he noticed his appearance. Albeit this pub was not the worst he had ever seen from the inside it was obvious that this guy was completely out of place in his posh, perfectly fitted suit and the slicked-back hair.

His next thought made him grin. He'd like to make this guy bend over and press himself...

"Sebastian Moran?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Did he know this man? He cursed his previous pints - three?  __ four? _ _ _ - _  and tried to focus on the stranger's face but it seemed completely unfamiliar.

"James Moriarty", the man introduced himself and led him to a sticky two-person table across the room. He started speaking as soon as they sat down and his words sobered Sebastian up within seconds. This guy was a madman.

Half an hour later James Moriarty got up and winked at him while straightening his suit.

"See you later, alligator." Sebastian huffed.

"Yeah. After 'while, crocodile."

 

The memories slowly faded away when Sebastian took Teal with him to the bathroom, ignoring imaginary Jim's frown and put him on the carpet. Teal yawned and licked his tiny black nose.

Sebastian got rid of the rest of his wet clothes and threw them into the laundry bin. As soon as he closed the shower door behind him Tear leaped up to his feet and started whining, his small paw scratching over the glas.

"Drop it, Teal." Sebastian turned on the water and tried to ignore the dog's obtrusive behaviour. He knew he had to if he wanted to rear him properly. Suddenly the door opened and Teal stumbled into the shower. The moment the water touched his body he shrieked, desperatly trying to avoid the water but he slipped and landed on all fours. Sebastian turned the shower off. Teal tried to get back on his paws but the shower tray was far too slippery. He let out a heartbreaking whimper.

"You're as bad as Jim", Sebastian said and helped the dog out of the shower. Imaginary Jim made a face. It was the truth though. Jim had always tried to step into the shower with him just to jerk back immediatly.

"Are you trying to burn me?", he had yelled with a slightly suspicious expression on his face. But Sebastian liked his shower hot. As hot as he could endure. Far too hot for Jim and especially too hot for a tiny puppy.

 

He took his time, enjoying the hot water on his tense shoulders, then stepped out of the cubicle and wrapped his body in a huge black towel. He frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Grey strings started pervading his hairline, the last months had obviously taken their toll. Sebastian ruffled his hair. With the towel still around his hips he walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.

Eighty percent of the shelves and rails were empty. Jim's clothes were all stored with the rest of his belongings. Sebastian had only kept the Westwood suit - his personal favourite. He gently touched the expensive fabric. Imaginary Jim sighed and adjusted his tie.  __ The tie _ _ _. _ Sebastian loved the feeling of the rough pattern underneath his fingertips. So many of their rare heated nights had started with his hands wrapped around this skull mustered tie.

Sebastian grunted and shoved the hanger aside. He turned towards the two shelves which held his clothes - a bunch of t-shirts, jumper, hoodies, two pair of denim and sweatpants. He had wrecked his only suit two months ago and without Jim by his side he couldn't really find the energy to get himself a new one. The few shirts he owned waited to be ironed. And in one of his worse nights he had thrown away all the clothes Jim had usually asked him to wear, just because he couldn't stand seeing himself in them without Jim's arms wrapped around his chest, slightly caressing the thin fabric of the slim fit shirt, feeling the muscles underneath.

Sebastian finally slipped into pants, jeans and a basic t-shirt.

 

It was five to seven when he fetched the dog lead and told Teal to sit down in front of him. He definitely needed to stop by the nearest Sainsbury's to restock. His parka was still too soaked to wear - and he somehow doubted it would ever dry again - so he decided to wear his beloved leather jacket despite the fact it was far too chilly and wet outside. In regards to his health he added a knitted scarf and the leather gloves he usually used for jobs before he lifted Teal into his arms. The puppy was too young for the stairs.

On his way down he desperatly tried to keep Teal from biting into his scarf.

"Teal, please", he grunted and nuzzled the puppy to distract him from the only present Jim had ever given him. Well, the only present he had received without any manipulative motives. He had suffered from the third cold within weeks when Jim nearly choked him to death with the scarf, ordering him to wear it  __ constantly _ _ _. _

The sleeting had turned into a slight slowing. Tiny snowflakes danced through the night, sparkling against the light of the street lamps. It was beautiful. Sebastian put Teal down and let him sniff. He buried his hands in his pockets. Sainsbury's was only a few crossroads away but for a dog Teal's age the walk would be just long enough.

He tied the leash to one of the metal bars in front of the entry and tried to ignore Teal's desperate whimper when he walked through the automatic door. Jim had been an incredibly difficult eater. Nowadays Sebastian could simply pick whatever he was up to. He enjoyed that but it still felt strange.

Roughly ten minutes later he left the grocery store with two full plastic bags. A teenage girl kneeled in front of Teal with her hands on his belly. She cooed at him and he responded with happy squeaks. When he saw Sebastian he leaped up to his feet and shifted from one paw to another. The girl turned around.

"Yours?" He nodded.

"His name's Teal." The girl smiled and gently patted Teal's head before she got up.

"Well, nice to meet you Teal", she said. Teal wiggled his tiny tail.

"He says 'nice to meet you too'." Sebastian untied the leash. Imaginary Jim covered his face with both his hands.

 

Back in the flat he threw some vegetables in a pan - imaginary Jim grimaced in disgust - and emptied the first bottle of beer while waiting. Maybe he should take a couple of days off, get drunk, have some sex. He had thrown himself into work after Jim's death, maybe it was time for a break.

The only names left on the list where the ones he couldn't find yet. And, of course, Mycroft Holmes, the one he had added. He knew exactly that revenge was a bad motive, an emotion only leading to mistakes but he couldn't help it. The only reason Mycroft Holmes was still alive was that Sebastian tried to perfect his plan. Shooting him from distance would be easy, getting away with it not as much.

 

With his dinner on a plate he sank down on the sofa and turned the TV on. He switched channels until he found a documentary about the Winter War's sniper Simo Häyhä. 500 hits in 100 days. Sebastian honestly admired the Finn. As a teenager he had spend hours out in the woods, squinting through the scope of his grandfather's broken antique rifle, pretending to be Häyhä. He had trained his patience back then, waiting ages for a target that would never show up. And in the evenings, when his father's fists buried themselves deep in his guts - never above the collar, the man had a reputation to lose - young Sebastian focused on the shot, his distant aim.

After finishing his meal he fetched his own rifle and started cleaning it while the rather dull sounding narrator told him about Häyhä's preference for iron sights. When they showed the Finnish militia variant of the Mosin-Nagant he paused and admired the rifle's beautiful simplicity. He thought about his own hits - twelve in the past eight months - and the beginnings of his career. All those neverending session with several psychologists who tried to test his stress-resistance, patience and even temper. Sebastian had passed easily. After all he was a stress-resistant, patient and even tempered man.

The Häyhä documentary was followed by a badly staged portrayal of Welsh gods. Sebastian put his rifle back on its place and made a quick side-trip to the fridge before he  stripped down to his pants, collapsed on the sofa and pulled the thin linen blanket over his legs. The TV programme was nearly as annoying as the live coverage from 221B. No, he corrected himself, it was worse. At least Holmes' and Watson's constant bickering had had some rather entertaining moments. Sebastian glanced over to the empty Versace armchair and sighed. Imaginary Jim folded his hands on his chest and frowned. Sebastian ignored him and set the TV's sleep timer to one hour.

Teal started whining. Sebastian picked him up and put him on his chest. Teal shuffled closer to his armpit and lazily licked Sebastian's chin.

"Oh boy..." Sebastian smiled and continued watching.

The narrator sounded even more bored than the previous one and his monotonous narrative slowly lulled Sebastian to sleep.

 

A strange noise woke him up.

Tension flooded his body - was the gun still hidden underneath the sofa? Probably not as Jim had used it to threaten him a few days before his death. Sebastian squinted into the darkness.

Then he heard Teal's paws on the parquet and relaxed immediatly.  __ Of course _ _ . He sighed and let his head fall back on the cushions just to jerk back up when another loud creak sounded.

Teal was far too light to cause such a sound.

Sebastian tried to find the gun while he stared into the darkness of the room, but the gun wasn't there anymore, as predicted. He quickly considered his options and finally settled on remaining silent. Whoever was in his flat probably didn't expect him to be on the sofa. As quiet as possible he pushed the blanket aside. A dark figure entered the room.

Small, thin frame.

Sebastian held his breath.

The intruder let something drop, a bag maybe, when Teal came around the corner and whimpered happily. Sebastian suppressed a groan.

The intruder's movements stopped dead.

"Oh."

Sebastian knew that voice.

"Jim?"

 


	3. Chapter 2 - Stayin' Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments - you have no idea how much it means to me. 
> 
> IT'S TIME FOR SMUT! AND FLUFF!

Chapter 2

**STAYIN' ALIVE**

 

"Oh."

"Jim?"

No way. _ _No fucking way__ _._ Jim was dead. He had seen him shoot himself, he had seen the blood, his body, he...

Sebastian leaped to his feet and turned the lights on.

And stopped dead.

It was actually Jim, wrapped in a oversized plain navy hoodie, unshaved, his usually neat hair messy and a few inches too long, his face pale and gaunt.

Jim didn't look at him, he just frowned at Teal as if he had never seen a dog before.

__Jim._ _

Jim was alive. Sebastian didn't know what to do, didn't know what to feel. He wanted to smack him, hug him, kill him, kiss him, tear him apart and yell at him and whisper him into his ear how much he had missed him.

Eventually he did none of it, he just stared while Jim tried to push Teal further away from him.

 

"Jim", he finally managed to say, his voice nothing but a whisper.

"What is that?" Jim stepped back when Teal tried to lick his trainers. He sounded clearly disgusted.

"Jim", Sebastian repeated. Jim was alive.  _ _How?__  And why? Eight months. Why did he show up after eight months?

"What is that, Moran, and why is it in my flat?"

And he hadn't changed, not a bit.  _ _Of course not.__  Sebastian felt the urgent need to cry. He cleared his throat.

"Jim." His voice was stronger now and finally - _ _finally__ \- Jim looked up at him, a slightly lopsided smile on his face.

"Miss me?", he asked. And Sebastian snapped. He leaped forward and shoved Jim against the wall, pressing his arm against Jim's throat, their faces only inches apart. Jim cooed.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" Sebastian slightly - _ _carefully__ _-_ increased the pressure on Jim's throat until Jim desperatly started struggling for air. There were moments in his life he didn't give  _ _a shit__  about his stress-resistant, patient and even tempered persona.

"You shot yourself. Eight fucking months ago."

He stepped back before Jim could pass out. Jim slumped, panting and wavering for a second before he collapsed against Sebastian's chest - clearly against his will. He struggled to get back on his own feet but Sebastian didn't let him. He wrapped his arms tight around Jim's body and manoeuvred him over to the sofa.

"I saw you shooting yourself in your head. How... why?"

Jim sank down on the cushions, his eyes closed. He seemed so small. So vulnerable. Far away from the well suited insane smart-arse Sebastian was used to. Pale skin, hollow cheeks and thick dark circles around his eyes. Seeing him like that made Sebastian nearly forget his anger.

"Everything went according to plan", Jim said with his eyes still shut. He huffed. "Well, nearly everything."

Sebastian sat on Jim's chair and placed his elbows on his knees. He knew Jim well enough to wait for further explanations.

"Holmes was supposed to die but he had an escape plan. Him and his bloody brother. I really thought he'd play along but no, he had to be a killjoy."

"But Holmes is dead. He jumped. I saw him."

Jim's eyes flipped open, a sympathetic smile on his lips.

"Sherlock Holmes is alive. He's currently trying to destroy my network."

 _Of course._ Sebastian resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"So you intended to die that day."

"I was hoping for it, yeah." Jim toed off his shoes and tucked up his legs. Sebastian felt the anger coming back and he forced himself to lean back in the armchair and steady his breath. _Focus._ He had to stay focused.

 "But as I mentioned before, Holmes was going to fake his death so I had to fake mine, too."

 

Sebastian finally got up and buried one hand in Jim's messy hair. Jim tried to coo againHe pushed his head down until he could see the knobbly scar at the base of his skull, maybe an inch next to his spine. A perfectly calculated shot, not immediatly lethal but combined with the right mixture of meds a perfect delusion. He should have been able to see it. After double checking so many corpses he should have seen it. Sebastian shook his head and went back to the armchair.

"I mourned you. I... did you... could you hear me?" Jim's silence was more than enough. "So how do you call that?"

"Slight miscalculation", Jim answered wearily. He seemed unusually slow and tired. Sebastian huffed.

"Slight miscalculation. You're a bloody bastard, Jim. Why didn't you come back earlier?" Jim frowned at him before he closed his eyes again.

"I couldn't. I had to recover. And you had a job to do."

"I could have helped you, Jim."

"Do I have to repeat myself, Moran?"

No, of course not. He had had a job to do. And Jim was right. He wouldn't have been able to do his job properly with a severly injured Jim.

"Such a wound doesn't take eight months to heal."

Jim glanced at him. He seemed - what, embarassed? Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Yes, Jim definitely seemed embarassed.

"A rather unpleasant concatenation of circumstances. I had a stroke. Apparently..." He stopped himself with a wave of his hand.

"A stroke?" Sebastian stared at him in disbelief. A fucking stroke? That would explain the slow movements. But still, Jim having a stroke?

"Yes. Minor but nonetheless very annoying. I left the... hospital today. And could you now please tell me why there's a fucking animal in my flat?" He pointed at Teal who was sleeping in safe distance. Sebastian sighed.

"His name is Teal. He's my dog."

"Teal?" Jim seemed amused, but in the bad Moriarty way of being amused. Of course he knew why Sebastian had named the pug Teal. Because even a man like Jim had his favourite colour. "Well, either way, the dog has to leave. No fucking animals in my flat." Sebastian only nodded. He knew Jim would simply get rid of the pug if he'd dare to object. He looked at Teal and felt a sting in his heart. Bloody sentiment.

"Can he stay until I found someone who'll take proper care of him?"

"When did you become such a  _ _girl__ , Moran?"

"I don't know. Maybe when I kneeled over your supposedly dead body." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. Nobody ever dared to speak to Jim like that. Nobody. Not even Sebastian. He expected a tantrum, a threat, but nothing happened. Jim just sighed and started ruffling his hair. Sebastian moved to the sofa and settled next to Jim. He smelled different, more like disinfectant and hospital than mint and ocean. It confirmed Jim's statement that he just left wherever he had spent the past months today. Sebastian put his arm around Jim's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're alive", he said because it was the simple truth. Yes, he was mad and hurt and confused but most of all he felt so relieved. After all Jim still meant the world to him. And the fact that Jim had returned to him as soon as he was able to told him quite a lot about him. About both of them. Jim sank against his shoulder. He seemed so far away from the man who had shot himself eight months prior. But Sebastian knew this side of him, not too well but well enough not to be surprised. So he waited, waited until Jim lifted his head and kissed him. Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes as Jim turned his body and straddled Sebastian's lap. Their kiss intensified, Jim pushed the tip of his tongue against Sebastian's lip, begging for admittance. Sebastian suppressed a grin. Sentiment. He wrapped his arms around Jim's body and tugged at his hoodie. They moved apart to remove Jim's clothes. Sebastian ran his fingers over Jim's shoulders and down his chest and froze when he reached his rips. His eyes widened. Every single rip protruded from Jim's small body. Sebastian pushed him back to stare at him. Jim was completely emaciated.

"Holy fuck Jim." Jim frowned.

"Hospital food is disgusting. Would you stop whining now? I'm trying to have sex with you and you're really turning me off." Sebastian pushed his thoughts aside and leaned in for another kiss. They could talk later. Jim had a rather special libido. And when he showed some honest interest in sex Sebastian had to make the most of it.

 

"Hold on", he whispered between two kisses and wrapped his arms around Jim before he pushed himself up. Sex in bed sounded much more comfortable than sex on the sofa. Jim crossed his feet behind Sebastian's back and buried his hands in Sebastian's hair. Teal tried to follow them into the bedroom but Sebastian kicked the door shut.

They sank down on the bed and started undressing each other. Jim was merely half hard, if at all, but Sebastian knew what to do. He pinched Jim's nipples and kissed him hard while he pressed their crotches together.

"I will sleep with you but I won't hurt you. Not today." When they had sex they had rough sex, sometimes even brutal sex, but with Jim's current physical state he didn't want to risk anything. Jim nodded and wrapped his legs around Sebastian's hips, pulling him closer. Sebastian angled for the lube on the nightstand.

He took his time. Jim was still not fully erected. Sebastian's trongue trailed down from Jim's jaw to his nipples, slowly flicking over the dark flesh. Jim had extremely sensitive nipples - unlike Sebastian - and quivered when Sebastian closed his teeth around them, one slick finger pressing against Jim's backside. A short, real groan escaped him, followed by some high-pitched faked ones. As always Jim was trying to hide his true reactions. Sebastian punished him with two more fingers. Jim hissed but his hips started rocking against Sebastian's hand, probably involuntarily. He ran his palms over Sebastian's body, the back of his head.

"Do we need... did you have..." Focus. Sebastian took a deep breath and tried to ignore Jim's raised eyebrows. "Did you have sex? Do we need condoms?" Jim shook his head. Sebastian withdrew his fingers and positioned himself properly between Jim's legs. So warm. So tight. Jim. He had missed this, god, he had missed this. He buried himself inside Jim, slow and steady, until his groin touched Jim's arse, then he paused and leaned down for a kiss. Jim was busy faking his noises, covering the real ones in between. J _im was back._ Jim was not dead and he was laying underneath him, naked, he was there. After eight months. Eight long months.

They rocked against each other, slowly increasing the tension. It was good, so good. Sebastian pressed his fingertips against Jim's shoulder and waited for permission to properly touch him. He might have taken some liberties in pushing Jim further than usual, in talking to him without complete obedience but he was fully aware that Jim was always - still - fully in charge. He was the boss and he was a madman. Sebastian would never be foolish enough to underestimate him, not even in his current shape. Jim didn't object, so Sebastian shifted his weight on one arm and let his free hand wander over Jim's body. Yes. Jim's soft skin under his fingers, his whole body tight around Sebastian. He watched Jim slowly stroking his own erection and it was too slow, nearly as if... yes, as if he got bored. Furthermore, as he noticed now, Jim's noises were completely acted. He stopped his movements. Jim just frowned at him.

"Try harder, Moran."

And Sebastian did. He straightend himself and pulled Jim closer, pushing his legs over his shoulders until his hips floated a couple inches over the mattress. Sebastian placed his hands on Jim's thighs and snapped forward, pressing forcefully into Jim's body and Jim arched up, his grip suddenly tightening around his cock. Oh yeah. This was better. A few, hard thrusts later he turned Jim on his belly and pulled him on his knees. Jim laughed and bend down until his head touched the pillow. So much about no rough sex tonight. Sebastian hestitated for a second and caressed Jim's buttocks, spreading them, kissing them.

"Hurt me, Seb." It was an order. This was the old Jim, his utterly insane smart-arse, the most dangerous man he'd ever meet. _Oh hell yeah_ , this was definitely turning him on.

He obeyed.

His body crashed against Jim's, brutally, painfully. This time Jim had no chance to cover his moans. Sebastian dug his fingernails deep in Jim's tender flesh and he felt the skin ripping under the pressure.

"Hurt me. Punish me." Jim had to pause between every word as every thrust pushed him further into the pillow. Sebastian had trouble keeping the pace steady - eight fucking months without sex, _no_ , even longer, and Jim was so hot, so tight, so eager to take all of him. Sweat covered his face, his chest, burned in his eyes and impaired his view. Jim's body blurred in front of him and he simply shut his eyes, forcing himself to speed up, thrusting even harder into Jim while Jim's pained whimpers mixed with these incredible deep groans filled his mind. There was no acting left. This was true, completely true, just him and Jim and he was as close to the real Jim as he could get. He felt his own climax approaching, deep down in his guts. Jim's erection was hard - so hard, so hot, _so hard_ \- as he closed one hand around it, stroking it. Sebastian used his other hand to press Jim further down, changing the angle until Jim suddenly turned into a quivering mess. _Yes_. Sebastian knew Jim hated this loss of control and would only allow it for a limited time, so he gave his very best, thrusting faster, harder, harder, _harder_ , his hands mimicing the movements and his guts were on fire and he came, god he came, deep inside Jim, so hot, so tight. _So_ _ _tight__.

"Make me come." Sebastian had no idea how Jim was still able to sound so sober, so bored. He had trouble keeping up the pace as his body kept trembling but he tightened his grip around Jim's cock, just a bit, a bit more, a bit, too hot, too tight and then Jim clenched around him, twitching, groaning, coming, spurting all over the bedding, his chest, Sebastian's hand. And Sebastian somehow managed to keep moving through Jim's orgasm, holding him tight, before he finally pulled out and collapsed next to Jim. He didn't dare to kiss him - Jim was the one to initiate kisses - but he shuffled his hand close to Jim's body until he could feel his radiating heat. He exhaled.

 

Jim pushed himself up and climbed out of the bed.

"Clean this mess", he ordered and vanished in the bathroom. Sebastian sighed and rolled on his back, still completely out of breath. Jim was back. Jim was  _ _alive__ _._

He wiped the sweat off his face and slowly got up. He changed the bedding and slipped back into his pants. Jim never showered longer than a few minutes, he hated being wet, and Sebastian hurried to collect all their disposed clothes. When Jim left the bathroom, his body wrapped in Sebastian's gown, he seemed more like himself, his typical expression on his face, something between frown, boredom and annoyance and when he opened the wardrobe Sebastian could see his body stiffening.

"Moran." Sebastian braced himself. Jim slowly turned to face him. "Where are my clothes?"

"I brought them to a store room, boss." He didn't say it was part of Jim's own security protocol.

"If you ruined them I'll gut you."

"Boss." Sebastian put the lube back in the top drawer. Jim chose one of Sebastian's old sweatpants. It let his frame appear even skinnier.

"Are you hungry?"

Jim shook his head. He climbed back into the bed and slipped under the duvet. He shuffled to the side until his back hit the wall.

"Sleep. You have work to do tomorrow." Again, Sebastian decided to wait for further explanations.

"I need my clothes, a new laptop and there are a couple of people you have to take care of." He huffed. "And you need to get rid of that thing." Sebastian blinked. Oh. Teal. A part of him had hoped Jim would simply forget about his existence. But of course - he hadn't.

"We will leave London for a while."

"I still have names left, boss."

"They're dead already. And forget about Mycroft Holmes, you will not kill him." Jim patted on the bed. "Sleep."

Sebastian knew Jim well enough to see how tired he was. He settled down next to him and turned off the lights. Jim's breathing was low and relaxed and it somewhat cleared the tension in Sebastian's shoulders but he couldn't shut off his brain. Not yet. Jim was back. He shouldn't be surprised, not after knowing Jim for over two years now, but he had mourned him as a boss and more importantly as a lover, the one person left in his life. Yes, Jim had been the one who had taken away every piece of his past until there had been nothing left but his name and the memories, but he had given it all eagerly, feeling actually relieved to leave it all behind. His job had become his life. Protecting Jim, serving Jim in every manner, from making breakfast to slaughtering and torturing people and pounding into Jim and falling submissivly onto his knees.

"Will you finally sleep after I answered your remaining questions?" Jim sounded annoyed. Sebastian rolled on his side.

"I don't have any questions. I just need a moment to realise you're actually back." Jim cooed.

"Ooh, did you miss me?" Sebastian didn't answer. So much sentiment. Too many emotions. They were ridiculous. He was fully aware of the fact that he loved Jim. There was nothing wrong about that and he had noticed it really early into their _relationship_ but he normally didn't feel the need to express it. Jim wouldn't understand anyway. He trusted Sebastian but Sebastian doubted that Jim could actually understand his own feelings. He was so twisted and troubled on the inside - _hell_ , he was ready to kill himself - he would not recognise love if it would laugh in his face. But it was fine for Sebastian, it really was, he knew for sure that Jim trusted him with his life, that in the end it was him Jim always came back to. But now it somehow felt different. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it did.

"Seb." Jim's voice was nearly soft. Sebastian felt warm fingers trailing over his chest, followed by damp hair and Jim's forehead pressing against him. Jim  _ _needed__  him. And Sebastian understood, finally, what Jim had been trying to tell him. He remembered Jim's bad nights, his night terrors, the neverending days without any sleep until Sebastian had wrapped his arms around Jim's trembling body after one of his worse nightmares, the smaller man covered in sweat, panting, shivering and so annoyed, so furious about his state and the fact Sebastian saw him like this, but Sebastian didn't care, he had held him tight until Jim had actually fallen asleep, his head lolled back against Sebastian's shoulder. He wasn't allowed to sleep anywhere but next to Jim from this night on. Not that he had wanted to. And now, with Jim telling him to sleep multiple times? Eight months of seperation, most of them filled with pain and recovery. Sebastian could only imagine the severity of Jim's night terrors during that time. It explained the dark rings around Jim's eyes. He propably never got enough sleep.

 

"When did you last sleep a whole night?" Silence. And then, just as Sebastian thought he'd never get an answer, Jim sighed.

"Eight months ago."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around him. It was after two and he knew that the night was for words one couldn't say during the day so he decided to give it a shot. Tonight was different -  _ _special__ \- anyway. Jim simply answering his questions with close to no snide and witty remarks? If he wouldn't know better he'd say Jim was actually sorry.

"You are so clever, so brilliant... But you really never realised I actually loved you, did you? It surprised you when I said it...", Sebastian started, more to himself than to Jim who he knew wouldn't react to such a  _wittering_  anyway. "I should have noticed. Should have seen your plan. That you never intended to stay alive..." He brushed his fingertips through Jim's soft chest hair. "But why, Jim? That's what I don't understand. Why don't you want to stay alive?" He slightly pushed against Jim. "That's a question I'd like to get an answer for, by the way."

Jim didn't pull back from where he was pressed flush against Sebastian. His breath was hot against Sebastian's skin.

"Because there's no point." Sebastian hadn't expected honesty. No point in living? He knew Jim felt like he didn't fit into this world - he didn't, he  _ _was__  different. And Sebastian couldn't imagine how Jim actually felt. Because no matter how hard he tried, every human had feelings, in one way or another.

"Do you still want to die?"

Jim snorted.

"I don't want to  _ _die__ , I just don't want to stay alive."

He couldn't say it. He just couldn't. But maybe it would help Jim, maybe...

"I love you." It felt wrong saying it. Especially when he remebered himself kneeling over Jim's bloody body, sobbing and crying and totally desperate. And of course, this time Jim was awake, completely conscious and pressed against his chest. He felt Jim's breath hitching, his hands digging into the small of his back.

"But you're boring. You are  _ _ordinary__ _._ "

Sebastian wasn't offended. It was merely the truth, he was in fact just an ordinary man. Maybe a bit insane himself as he voluntarily put up with a man like Jim, but apart from that entirelyordinary.

"You will continue your chess game against Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh yes, and believe me it will be better than the one before."

"Will it result im both of your deaths?"

"They can't let the big bad wolf survive after all the big bad things he did."

"One last question and we'll sleep: If I showed you a purpose, an alternative - something not  _ _boring__ \- would you stay alive?"

Jim looked up at him, sneering.

"You're useless."

"And yet you're here now." Something in Jim shifted and Sebastian knew he wouldn't talk to him anymore. He got too close. But it was fine, really. They had never talked that much before except about work - or Sherlock Holmes, because Jim could talk for hours about Sherlock _fucking_ Holmes. They would turn back into their usual personas soon enough. And as much as Jim had owed Sherlock a fall, he definitely owed Sebastian an apology and this was more of an apology as Sebastian could have expected. No threats, no kick in the balls, no knive against his throat, no gun cocking behind his back.

He rolled on his back and closed his eyes. Jim was still touching him. His hand rested on Sebastian's hip. Sebastian focused on Jim's steady breath and forced his thoughts to calm down. He had learned to free his mind, it was essential for his kind of job and it was always helpful when he had trouble falling asleep. His limbs twitched slightly as he floated away, slowly, heavy darkness filling his head. A weird noise stirred him up. It was coming from Jim and Sebastian kept the farce of being asleep. The noise came back. It was a sigh, a deep, shuddering sigh. As if Jim was trying to speak but couldn't bring the words out. Sebastian remained silent.

"I'm..." Jim sighed again. "I'm sorry."

Sebastian knew Jim didn't want him to hear this, he wanted to clear his consciousness without Sebastian being actually present but he couldn't help it.

"Jim." He rolled on his side and wrapped his arms around Jim whose body got rigid.

"You're awake." Jim stating the obvious was always a sign of true confusion.

"I'm glad you're back."

"And you still..."

"Yes I still love you."

Jim shuffled closer, his skinny body pressed against Sebastian's muscles. Sebastian held him tight and decided to sleep this way. He would regret it in the morning, because Jim would be a pain in the arse when he woke up, but he didn't care. Right now he didn't care about tomorrow.

 


	4. Chapter 3 - Back On The Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why don't you check out my [Tumblr](http://www.mad-mads.tumblr.com)?

Chapter 3

**BACK ON THE STREETS**

 

He did indeed regret his decision to hold him tight when Jim's knee hit his crotch, rising him from slumber with full force. A pained growl escaped his mouth and he instantly curled up to shield himself from any further attacks, but as soon as he let go off Jim's body the other man climbed over him and left the bed. Sebastian rolled on his belly, his hand still wrapped around his balls. So this was the price he was paying for their honest talk. It was definitely worth it. Could be worse. The pain abated slowly and when Jim came back from the bathroom he felt just well enough to get up.

"My clothes, Moran. Now." Jim kicked his shin. Sebastian let him.

"I make you breakfast. Then I'll get your stuff."

Jim rolled his eyes but didn't object.

After finishing his business in the bathroom he made Jim a small breakfast - bacon and eggs - and slipped into boots and jacket while Jim ate.

"Do you need all of it?", he asked, because Jim owned a lot of clothes.

"We will leave London tonight. Pack a suitcase." He dropped the fork. "Get my bag." Sebastian crossed the room and fetched the beige duffel bag that was laying underneath the table - _within_ Jim's reach, of course. He set it next to the plate. Jim opened it and pulled out a wallet.

"Here." He gave Sebastian one of his cards. Then, with a dangerously blank expression on his face, he raised his hand and pushed the bag off the table. His eyes locked with Sebastian's and his voice was ice cold when he spoke.

"I think you should tidy up before you go." The plate followed the bag and shattered into a million pieces. Sebastian just obeyed. Jim would be insufferable for a few days to  __ make up _ _  for the last night. 

"Here." When Sebastian was done Jim handed him a folded piece of paper. It turned out to be a shopping list - a rather long one. Two MacBook's, a whole bunch of technical devices Sebastian had never heard of, several books, newspapers and magazines, surveillance equipment, weapons and even a god damn car.

"When do you need this?"

Jim frowned at him.

"Tonight."

"Oh.“ _Well._ That meant he definitely had to call in some favours. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anything else?"

" _Surprise_ me."

 

 

Sebastian took the tube to Leicester Square and followed King Street until he reached the Apple Store. Jim hadn't mentioned any specifications so he simply asked for the best. His next stop was at Foyles where he actually got most of the books. For the technical devices he did call in several favours and when he left a rundown shop in Brent three and a half hours later he found a brand new Range Rover waiting for him. He had asked for "any SUV" but Jim's people still feared him even though they thought their boss was dead and gone. They knew Sebastian was a dangerous man himself. So when he asked for something they made sure to bring him the best.

The trunk contained the rest of the requested equipment, including what seemed like half an army armoury. He smirked when he stored the bags away. He only needed some salt and he could definitely start hunting ghost and other creatures.  _ God,  _ he had definitely spent too many lonely nights in front of his telly. He had always been more of a film fan but neither the army nor the time with Jim had allowed him to just sit down and watch a bunch of movies over the weekend. Rewatching his favourite Tarantino movies after Jim's death had only made him sad – he had intended to watch them  _ with Jim _ , somewhen after Holmes' death – so he had decided to switch to TV shows. It was easier, lighter. 

 

Sebastian drove to the store room and unlocked his compartment. All the boxes were neatly tagged so it didn't take him too long to find an appropriate variety of clothes. Anything from basic tees to formal dress shirts. He closed the boxes and checked every corner of the compartment before locking it.  _ You never knew.  _ When he returned to the new car his phone started ringing. Unknown number but the ringtone gave it away. Molly Hatchet's Flirtin' With Disaster started with the second verse.  __ Been flirtin' with disaster, y'all know what I mean. And the way we run our lives, it makes no sense to me. I don't know about yourself or, what you want to be, yeah. When we gamble with our time, we choose our destiny. _ _  Sebastian had no idea when Jim had found the time to do this, but it definitely made him smile. 

"Boss?"

"Walmer Road, Notting Hill." Jim hang up on him before he could say another word. He was close to Acton Park, so Notting Hill was actually on his way. He opened his navigation app on his mobile and checked the directions. There were too many roads in London to know them all – at least for him. Flirtin' With Disaster stuck in his ears and he kept humming it until he pulled into Walmer Road. A cab was waiting in front of one of the generic but pretty little houses. Sebastian pulled over behind it. The cab's door opened and Jim appeared, Teal on his arms, Sebastian's bag over his shoulder. Sebastian rose his eyebrows in surprise. This was the last thing he had expected.

"Finally." Jim was in a bad mood. He nearly threw Teal and the bag in Sebastian's arms and turned towards the house. He was wearing dark jeans, a tight white t-shirt and his Westwood jacket. Sebastian put the bag into the trunk before he locked the Range Rover and hurried after Jim who had already pressed his index finger on the door bell. He stared at Jim, trying to find the right words to phrase his question, but as soon as he was ready to speak it was already too late.

"Yes?" The voice coming through the speaker sounded like an old woman's. The sign next to the door bell said Helena Crawford in sleek, black letters.

"Miss Crawford? It's Jake Grimm, I called earlier." Sebastian had never heard Jim talking like this. Not even as Jim from IT. Soft, high pitched and far too calm. His whole body posture shifted.

"Come on in, dear!" Definitely an elderly woman. Jim grabbed his arm and pulled him with him. Sebastian didn't have to ask what they were doing here anymore. He had realised it by now. A painful sting went through his heart. _Teal._ He petted the pug's head and couldn't hide his smile when the puppy started licking his fingers with his tiny tongue. Sebastian had anticipated to find an appropriate place for Teal as soon as possible, not expecting Jim to do it for him. And Jim being here with him was strange, too. There was no need for that. So either he didn't trust him or -

The front door opened and Miss Crawford appeared on the porch. Jim immediatly pulled Sebastian closer until their hips collided. Sleek fingers crawled over his back and finally shuffled into his back pocket. Sebastian could hardly ignore the urgent need to roll his eyes. They approached the house. Jim reached out and shook Miss Crawford`s hand. The woman glanced fondly at Teal before locking eyes with Sebastian.

"So you must be Sebastian! Your fiancé told me quite a bit about you. Tea?" She didn't wait for an answer but turned around and hurled back into the kitchen. Sebastian stared at Jim. What the _hell_ was going on here?

"Fiancé?", he mouthed. Jim frowned and pushed him into the house. They followed Miss Crawford through an incredibly old fashioned hallway. As nice as the house seemed to be from the outside - on the inside it was apparently still stuck in the 60s. Every inch was stuffed with furniture and decoration and yellowed pictures. Miss Crawford asked them to sit when they reached the living room. Jim sank down on the old leather sofa, gently patting on the free space next to him.

"Let the dog run free, Sebastian! Tea?", Miss Crawford said from across the room where she already left for the kitchen. Sebastian obeyed and let Teal down before sitting down next to Jim who instantly wrapped an arm aroud his shoulder, his fingertips brushing against Sebastian's cheek, his earlobe, his neck. Sebastian furrowed his brows. He had not forgotten last night, waking up and especially not Jim's expression when he had left the cab. This was an act and he knew the Jim underneath the surface was in a rather bad mood, making this whole thing – whatever it was – a bit dangerous for Sebastian.

"Don't you _like_ it, Seb?", Jim hissed. Sebastian snorted. They waited in silence until Miss Crawford came back from the kitchen, balancing a tablet full of cups. She placed it on the coffee table and poured the tea.

"Here we go, boys." Teal sniffed her legs and whimpered happily. She started smiling and slowly petted his head.

"He seems to like you already", Jim said with his faked voice. Sebastian caught his breath. Jim sounded so stereotypically gay. Miss Crawford nodded and glanced up at Jim.

"What a shame you're allergic to him." Jim's expression turned into a destinctively sad one.

"Indeed. Sebastian grew so fond of him... it's tragic, really."

"Oh boy", she looked at Sebastian, "You can always visit him here."

He forced himself to smile and nodded. This was by far the weirdest situation Jim had ever brought him into and Jim had made a habit of not telling him about any of his plans. He actually prefered facing an armed maniac than sitting next this version of Jim, cool fingers rubbing over the small stripe of exposed skin on his side.

“Thank you.” 

Miss Crawford leaned down to pick up Teal and carefully placed him on Sebastian's lap. Sebastian sighed and decided to ignore Jim for a second. He pressed the dog against his chest, burying his nose in the short fur. It was stupid, really.  _Jim_ was sitting next to him. Jim who had been dead for eight months. Jim, a human being. The man he loved. Sebastian glanced at Jim and smiled slightly. Jim's expression melted into a warm, loving smile – something Sebastian had only seen once before, the day Jim had asked Molly to be his girlfriend – and he wrapped his arm completely around Sebastian, pulling him closer. 

“You okay, honey?” 

Jim's voice sounded so sweet it almost made Sebastian sick. No matter how often he had secretly wished for a  _nicer_ Jim, a more loving, more caring Jim – this was horrible. He was certain he wouldn't be able to endure this version of Jim for the length of a day. 

Sebastian nodded and reached out for his tea cup. 

 

When they left Miss Crawford's house half an hour later - leaving Teal behind - it took Jim merely two seconds to switch back to himself.

"Did you get everything?"

"Yes, boss."

Jim entered the car on the passenger side, brushing off a few dog hairs with a disgusted expression on his face.

"Good. We're leaving now."

"Boss, my stuff..."

"In your bag. Now, Moran."

Sebastian started the car.

“Where are we going, boss?” 

“West Wales, between Llan-non and Aberaeron. Take the M40.” 

 

About one hour later Jim slowly started to look more and more tired and - more importantly - pained. His jaw clenched after every bump in the road. When Jim accidentely groaned Sebastian couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Are you alright, boss?"

A fist hit his face, smashing his head against the window. Sebastian heard a car honking and somehow managed to bring the Range Rover back on the lane before colliding with another vehicle.

"Fuck!", he yelled. His heart was racing. " _Fuck_ , Jim, don't kill us!"

"Stop whining." Jim curled up on his seat and rested his head on his arm. "Don't you dare waking me up."

Sebastian drove more carefully now. Jim fell asleep after a few miles, slowly drooling on his sleeve. He seemed vulnerable again, vulnerable and a lot younger. Sebastian could actually see the young boy he had to have been somewhen. Normally he couldn't imagine Jim as a child, growing up, playing with other kids, writing letters for Santa, sitting in a class room waiting for lunch break, washing his hands before dinner with the family. But then again he knew nothing about Jim. Did they even have family dinners? Was his real name even James Moriarty? Were his parents still alive? And what did they think of Jim, especially after all the news? How was their relationship? They must know their son wasn't a fraud – and they must be traceable. So when Jim had erased everything about Moriarty, had he also _erased_ his own parents? Sebastian had so many questions and he knew he would never ask one of them. He just wondered about it whenever he could watch Jim sleeping. He scoffed. Jim probably spent his childhood drowning kittens and burning baby rabbits over a pit.

 

It was dark when they reached the shore. Thick snow flakes impaired the view. Jim hadn't moved since he fell asleep. Sebastian sighed and gently touched his shoulder. He had to ask Jim for directions.

“Jim? We're at Llan-non.”

Jim groaned and frowned at him.

“Drive.”

Sebastian followed the snow covered road for another three miles until Jim told him to pull into a small path leading to the sea. Behind a couple of trees a small cottage appeared. Sebastian parked the car and turned off the engine. Jim needed several attempts to free himself from the seatbelt, his movements were stiff and he still looked pained. Sebastian considered to help him but he knew Jim would never accept that. So he could do nothing but watch how Jim fought against the door just to stumble out of the car, holding himself up with one hand clutching the door frame. 

 

The cottage was nice, small but modern. Sebastian rounded the car and took one of the guns from the trunk. Jim gave him the keys and he entered the house first. A small hallway with three doors – bedroom, bathroom, living room with an half open-plan kitchen. The living room had a gigantic window with view to the sea – at least Sebastian assumed so – and a comfortable looking sofa with two matching chairs. He checked every room twice before calling Jim. Safety first. He had lost Jim before and did not intend to let that happen again. Jim immediatly sunk down on the huge leather sofa and closed his eyes.

"Bring me my MacBook."

"Right away." Sebastian left an emergency stock in the car in case they had to leave in a hurry with no time to pack anything - gun, a few clothes for Jim, one of the mobiles and the second MacBook. He took the rest with him and dropped the bags in the living room.

"Sebastian", Jim said with a sharp voice, his eyes still closed.

"I'll store it away in a second, boss. Giving you your laptop first." He pulled his knife out of his pocket and slit open the plastic wrap around the box, then pulled the Macbook out and handed it over to Jim before plugging the charger into the socket beneath the sofa.

"The second one is yours, by the way."

"It is?" Sebastian looked up at Jim. Since Jim destroyed his old laptop in a tantrum he had never bothered to get a new one.

"What would I need two for?" Jim shook his head.

"Thank you", Sebastian said and went out to the car to get his laptop. He didn't actually _need_ it – there was nothing he couldn't do with his phone - but it would be a bad idea to ignore Jim's generousity. It normally didn't happen without him having a greater purpose in mind. Presents were actually made to manipulate people. Sebastian huffed as he unboxed his new laptop. Somehow this was just the same thing all over again - Jim trying to manipulate Sebastian so he wasn't angry or hurt anymore. Jim couldn't handle emotions. Back in the house he shot a quick glance at Jim who was already busy typing before he moved the bags. After storing everything away he decided to check the environment - better to get used to everything _before_ anything happened.

"I'll head out for a walk. You need anything before I leave?" Jim didn't react. Sebastian shrugged and closed the door behind him.

 

Snow covered the gravel and muffled the sound of his steps when he made his way down to the shore. It was extremely cold but now that the snowing had stopped the night was clear and the moon was bright enough to lighten the sea. Sebastian saw the white tips of the breaking waves and he filled his lungs with the clean air, smelling the scent of the ocean. 24 hours ago he had just arrived at his empty flat. Now he was in Wales with Jim, supposedly dead Jim, Jim who had actually shot himself and survived, who had had a stroke and who had spent his first night back in Sebastian's arms. Sebastian cleaned the rocks off the snow and sat down. How long would they stay here? People still thought that Moriarty had only been an invention by Sherlock Holmes, but that would probably change at some point, they would figure out the truth and Jim's face would be on every news. He couldn't just walk through London anymore. And he wasn't the mysterious leader anymore, even the smallest fish in his organisation knew his face now. It would be harder for him to rule his little empire, especially with Holmes slowly destroying the network. And considering the fact Sebastian himself had killed the ones who knew more about Jim then Jim wanted Holmes to know.

The noise of the sea was relaxing. Wave for wave crashed against the rocks in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Sebastian grabbed a few smaller stones and threw one after another in the nearly black water.

"I'm hungry, Moran."

Sebastian turned around. Jim was standing on top of the little hill, in front of the house. He seemed to be shining as the light fell through the nearly closed lids and covered his shilouette. Sebastian thought about inviting him down so he could wrap his arms around him, hold him tight while they bothed watched the beauty of the sea, listening to the soft murmuring of the water, but he instantly dismissed the idea. _Sentiment_. Instead he just threw the last of the stones as far as he could before climbing back up to Jim.

"You know Orion was a dick?"

"What?"

Jim stared up to the sky and lifted his left arm to point towards the stars.

"Greek mythology. He raped Merope, got blinded, yadda yadda, Artemis shot him. Or he got killed by a scorpion. Depends." Sebastian threw his head back and looked at the sky too.

"Where's Orion?", he asked. Jim sighed.

"Can you see those three bright stars?" Sebastian scanned the sky until he found a constellation of three bright stars in one horizontal line.

"Yes."

"Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka. Orion's belt. Saiph, Rigel - his feet. The stars inbetween? They resemble his sword." Jim's finger painted a shape into the sky.

Sebastian tried to see a man but failed. All he could do was to draw an imaginary line between the stars Jim named.

"Didn't all the people in Greek mythology do weird stuff? You know, sleep with their own mothers, have children with animals, accidently kill family members?"

Jim chuckled.

"True."

"Then why did he of all people get his own constellation?"

"In the Odyssey Orion's described as the most handsome of the earthborn. Maybe they didn't want someone ugly up there. Anyways Moran, I'm still hungry." Jim turned around and walked away. Sebastian looked up at Orion and smiled.

 

The fridge was empty - of course - and they hadn't brought any food, so Sebastian had to drive to the town to get some takeaway. Jim complained about the consistency and threw his plate across the room when Sebastian tried to persuade him into eating.

"Shut up!", yelled Jim and grabbed his glass. Sebastian ducked just in time and the beverage shattered on the wall.

"Clean." His voice suddenly sounded calm again. He slid off his seat and went back to the sofa, tucking his legs under his body, his laptop on his lap. "And I'm still hungry."

Sebastian obeyed. He cleaned up, put the rest of his own meal in the fridge and cut two apples into small slices. Jim frowned at him when he handed him a shallow bowl full of apple slices but at least he didn't throw it away. _Yet_. Sebastian suppressed a sigh and thought about Orion, desperatly trying to ignore his own hunger. Jim would never let him eat in peace, not now. He still had to pay - to suffer - for their amount of sentiment the night before.

Finally, Jim ate. When he was done a deep yawn escaped him.

"Shall we go to sleep?" The bowl hit Sebastian's head. The answer was 'no' then. Sebastian turned on the TV and watched another documentary. When he glanced over at Jim about an hour later, Jim was fast asleep, his head lolled back against the cushions, one hand loosely placed on his MacBook. Sebastian closed the screen and placed the laptop on the couch table before sliding his arms under Jim's back and legs and lifting him up. Jim groaned and buried his face in Sebastian's neck. Sebastian carried him to the bedroom and gently placed him on the bed. Jim immediatly rolled on his belly, hugging the pillow. It took Sebastian quite a while to strip him down to his pants and tuck him in.

Sebastian wasn't tired yet. He looked at Jim's sleeping body for a moment, then he returned to the living room and collapsed on the sofa. They definitely needed some supplies. Sebastian pulled his mobile out of his pocket and opened a new note, making a list of all the things he had to buy tomorrow. The town was small but he would probably get what they needed. At least he hoped for it.

He finished the list and turned to face the TV. A Doctor Who rerun was on. He knew the episode already but decided to watch it nevertheless.

 

A scream cut through the house. Sebastian stirred up. Another scream sounded, pure, animalistic agony. _Jim_. He jumped off the sofa and ran to the bedroom. Jim was still screaming, his body covered in sweat, limbs tangled in the sheets.

"Wake up! Jim!" Sebastian grabbed Jim's shoulders and shook him. Jim's eyes flipped open, panic and terror in his expression. He panted heavily. Sebastian kneeled on the mattress and cupped Jim's face with both his hands.

"It's okay", he whispered. Jim stared at him, sweat dripping off his nose, and punched his chest.

"You're useless!", he yelled, "So fucking _useless_!" He punched him again and Sebastian let him. Jim was too weak to hurt him anyway.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I'm _so_ sorry." He pressed Jim against his chest and kissed his damp hair. Jim wrapped his arms around him, his fingers curled up in Sebastian's t-shirt.

"I got you now." Sebastian had never asked what exactly Jim was dreaming about. He himself had suffered from light PTSD after his dishonourable discharge but none of his nightmares had been so severe compared to what Jim must be going through. After what seemed like hours Jim slowly relaxed against his chest and Sebastian sank down next to him, still holding him tight until both of them fell asleep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 4 - No Rush

Chapter 4

**NO RUSH**

 

The days went by, uneventful as February turned into March. They settled into a familiar pace. Jim worked without including Sebastian in any of his plans, they had the occassional sex - more often than before, Sebastian noticed - and Jim still curled up against him every night. They didn't talk much because there was nothing to talk about. Jim seemed to have an unlimited stock of pills and Sebastian kept them close, learning to recognise the signs that whatever trouble Jim still had was coming back. That was all he did, actually. Taking care of Jim, cooking, cleaning. Day for day.

Sebastian started all of them with his usual workout, a set of movements he had compiled over the years, followed by a run around the house, just to make sure everything was still okay and nobody was hiding behind the trash cans, and then up the road into the little town with the weird Welsh name, picking up a bunch of newspapers for Jim before making his way back to the cottage where Jim was usually still in bed, legs crossed, his MacBook on his lap.

 

When Sebastian entered the bedroom at the 3rd March 2012 Jim didn't even raise his head. He spoke French on the phone and though Sebastian couldn't understand a word he was utterly impressed how Jim managed to sound threatening in a language that was known for its melodic sound and the ability to make anything sound like a love confession.

"Pas de discussion!" Jim's tone send a shiver down Sebastian's spine. Sometimes he forgot how terrifying Jim could be.

"Écoutez Arnaud. Il y a trois possibilités. - Ca suffit!"

Jim started yelling and Sebastian vanished in the bathroom. He didn't want to be anywhere near Jim when this phone call ended, so he took his time showering and when he came back the bed was empty.

Sebastian found Jim in the living room reading  _ T _ __ he Sun _ _ _ . _  Somehow Jim always started with  __ The Sun _ _ . Probably to get it over with.

"Any wishes for breakfast?" Sebastian knew he was allowed to interrupt Jim when he was reading  __ The Sun _ _ . Jim finished reading the page before he crumbled the paper and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Interesting news would be perfect." Jim huffed. "Or capable staff."

Sebastian glanced at the headlines of __ __ The Times _ _  and smirked.

"Looks like Putin won the election."

"What a surprise."

"Bacon?"

Jim's body slowly started to look  _ normal  _ again.  _ Healthy _ . 

"Fine." Jim picked up  _ The Times. _

 

Sebastian knew it would take Jim approximately thirty minutes to go through all the papers so he took his time preparing breakfast. When he returned to the living room with two plates in his hands Jim just lowered  __ The Daily Mail _ _ _ , _  a deep frown carved in his face. Sebastian kept his distance. He placed the plate carefully in front of Jim, avoiding eye contact, before settling on the armchair across the room. Usually bad news for Jim also meant bad news for Sebastian.

Jim's expression finally got blank and he picked up his fork.

"We might have to pay a friend a short visit."

Sebastian simply nodded.

"Sadly he is used to unconventional interrogation techniques."

Sebastian looked up from his food and nearly smiled. He knew exactly what Jim was telling him.  __ Be creative, Moran. You have free hand. Make him talk. _ _  Sometimes Jim wanted to do such things by himself but most of the time he prefered to watch. Jim __ __ loved _ _ __ to watch. And Sebastian loved when Jim watched, hands in his pockets, body casually leaned against a wall, an honest expression of amusement on his face. Sebastian had proven to be very creative, even innovative and he showed the same patience during __ __ interrogations _ _  that he normally did while aiming for the perfect shot. In the end, they all talked.

And, of course, in the end, they all died.

"I'm certain there's a way to get what you need, boss", Sebastian said. Jim got up. He still wore his black cotton pyjama bottoms and Sebastian couldn't help but raise both his eyebrows in surprise as he registered that Jim was __ __ hard _ _ . What an unexpected turn of events, Sebastian thought to himself. The morning had not seemed to be a good one. First the phone call, then whatever news had upset Jim.

But then again - Jim __ __ loved to watch _ _ . And maybe the pure prospect of Sebastian  __ interrogating _ _  whomever he was supposed to had this effect on him. Sebastian doubted Jim got off on violence per se. But he knew for sure Jim got off on Sebastian himself.

Sebastian considered switching from business to private but decided against it, so he remained silent and simply looked at Jim, waiting for him to take another step. And Jim did.

"I always get what I need, Moran", Jim said with a husky voice and approached him, shuffling between Sebastians legs, pressing closer and closer against him until Sebastian could feel his erection hot against his chest.

Sebastian breathed into Jim's t-shirt. He grabbed his own thighs, digging his fingers into his own skin. __ __ Business _ _ _.  _ __ Obedience. _ _  That included no touching except he was told to do so. He knew Jim well enough by now that this was not the part of Jim that needed physical comfort, kissing, touching and some sort of love-making.

This was the insane part of Jim. The one who thought of Sebastian torturing a man and got a hard-on.

Jim's fingers ran over Sebastian's back, his shoulders, up in his hair and finally settled there, pulling his head back forcefully. Sebastian teared up as the pain jolted through his scalp.

Jim's eyes got dark as Sebastian stared up to them, rapidly blinking away the tears. He put one hand on Jim's leg and palmed his erection, pressing slightly before pulling down the pyjama bottoms.

If he could choose he'd do it all slow, drawing it out as long as possible along with some gentle teasing. And it would probably be even better for Jim. But he had no choice. Insane Jim would never let him do it his way.

So when Jim suddenly pushed his head against his penis, forcing himself into Sebastian's mouth with a certain brutality, Sebastian wasn't surprised. He took him in, nearly gagging as Jim hit the back of his throat and desperatly tried to keep breathing as Jim started moving his head, rocking his hips to counter the movements. Sebastian cupped Jim's arse and shoved him even harder against his mouth and he closed his eyes, focusing on his breath. Jim didn't even bother to fake any noises.

It didn't take long. Jim's grip in his hair tightened, a deep moan escaped his throat and his body trembled, desperatly trying to keep the pace as he rode through his orgasm, coming deep inside Sebastian's mouth.

Sebastian gasped when Jim finally pulled back and cleaned his mouth with his sleeve. Jim wavered in front of him, eyes closed, chin sunk against his chest and Sebastian put his hands on Jim's hips to steady him.

 

They both returned to work eventually.

 

Knowing that Sherlock Holmes was alive Sebastian now paid even more attention to the rumours within Jim's old network. People kept disappearing. The whole smuggler ring in New Dehli had been arrested after a tremendous raid just a week ago. Hamburg had stopped sending reports.

Sebastian was still in no direct contact with the web. He kept his head down. A few loyal subordinates, men who owed him their lives and who knew exactly that no torture would be as bad as the one waiting for them if they talked, kept their ears open and constantly reported back to him.

Where Jim had always been the mind, he had turned into the hand. Most people didn't even know his name, didn't even know about his existence. He was a rumour himself, Jim's right hand, a ghost one did not want to meet as meeting him signified certain death. Once a Russian dealer had joked about Sebastian being even more dangerous than Jim himself. Jim had laughed and put a bullet between his eyes.

Now, with Jim being supposedly dead, Sebastian could do nothing else but watching the network falling into pieces, being slowly taken apart by the Holmes brothers and the natural chaos arising when a king left his kingdom unreigned. But he -  __ they  _ _ _ -  _ had to watch this process.

And, of course, Jim seemed to have a plan.

Sometimes it was weird to be here in this small cottage, so far away from the life they used to have. They had been hiding in safe houses before but never for an indefinite period of time. And it had never been just the two of them. The old James Moriarty had owned various flats, houses and offices, employees, bodyguards and underlings. But James Moriarty didn't even exist anymore.

One day Sherlock Holmes' name would get cleared and Richard Brook would disappear again, officially turning out to be nothing but a farce, but even after that Jim wouldn't be able to return. The world knew his face now, his name, his capabilities. They would never be able to simply walk through the streets of London again.

 

The sun was about to set when Sebastian received another important call from one of his informants.

"Seb, mate, you won't believe me."

Liam Millett had served at the same time as Sebastian and they had spend quite a few evenings drinking cheap booze and ranting about incapable superiors and ridiculous missions. He had left the army just a few months after Sebastian's dishonourable discharge, using his abilities for much shadier jobs until one of them nearly got him killed. Sebastian had saved him and his then pregnant girlfriend from a drug baron's henchmen. Nowadays Liam was one of Sebastian's most reliable sources.

"Jesus, I don't even believe it myself!" Liam chuckled tensely.

"What happened?" Sebastian put his laptop aside.

"I saw Holmes. Sherlock. Seriously Seb, couldn't believe my eyes but it was him, fit and well and all."

"Where did you see him?" Sebastian could see Jim straightening himself from the corner of his eyes and nodded in his direction to affirm his obvious question.

"Amsterdam. He... oi, hang on, did you know he's alive? You don't sound surprised."

"Yes, I knew. Liam, did he see you?"

"You son of a bitch...“

“Did he see you?” 

“Nah. He was too busy scoping my... business partners."

"Watch him and report back to me. Stay out of business for a while, though. Holmes is there to bust the network."

Liam sighed at the other end of the phone. Sebastian understood his displeasure. The Amsterdam drug export network was his project.

"Look mate, why don't you come here and we kill him together?"

Sebastian grimaced.  __ I'd love to _ _ , he wanted to say but he knew Jim would never approve. It was not about killing Holmes, it was about winning against him.

"Not part of the plan."

"Seb, man, I don't know what Moriarty wanted you to do but he's gone. You're a free man now. Holmes is destroying everything here. Moriarty's work. My bloody life. We've got to stop him."

Sebastian couldn't agree more. But he wasn't the one in charge.

"Liam."

"Yeh, fine. Staying out of trouble."

"Daily reports. Be careful."

"Cheers mate."

Sebastian ended the call and tossed his phone back on the table. He felt Jim's stare burning on his skin but decided to ignore him for another second. The urge to simply go and shoot Holmes was still too huge for a conversation about further proceedings.

"Where?" Jim's voice was sharp and demanding.

"Amsterdam", Sebastian answered without looking at him.

"Oh. Really?" He honestly sounded surprised. "What a waste of time." Jim flopped on his belly. "Amsterdam was an excellent source of income but it got boring __ __ years ago _ _ _. _ "

"At least we'll know exactly what Holmes is up to."

Jim snorted.

"Yes. We wouldn't have __ __ a clue _ _  without your boyfriend reporting from the field."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and got up from the armchair where he had spent most of the day.

"I'll have a walk and then get us some takeaway."

When he passed Jim five strong fingers grabbed his wrist and forcefully turned his hand into an unnatural direction.

"Don't roll your eyes, Seb." Seb, not Moran. So Jim was not upset. Sebastian freed his hand and rested his palm on Jim's shoulder, just a brief touch. He had to get out of the house for a bit.

"Don't get yourself killed while I'm away."

 

The air outside was cool and refreshing. A soft breeze ruffled his hair as he climbed down to the small strip of sand underneath the protruding rocks. He had discovered this spot a few days after their arrival and he came here as often as possible. Now that the weather had changed he tried to make this part of his routine - a few minutes all by himself, nothing but him and the sea. It helped him thinking when he wanted to think and it offered him a free mind whenever he was looking for peace and silence.

He let the sand run through his fingers.

Although he had hidden it from Jim he was a bit worried about Liam. Holmes was smart, Liam not so much. The chances of him surveilling Holmes without being seen were small, extremely small. Yes, he trusted Liam, knew he would never willingly talk about Sebastian Moran, not even under torture, but it was Sherlock Holmes they were talking about here. He'd probably find some way of tracking everything back to Sebastian himself.

Or Liam would get caught and killed. Sebastian grimaced as he realised that this was his prefered outcome. Liam wasn't a friend. At least not anymore.

Sebastian finished his walk around the cottage and drove the few miles into the town. He had discovered a nice Chinese two weeks ago, one that even Jim enjoyed. The young waitress took his order and asked him to sit while waiting. He inspected the gigantic dragon painting on the wall, still finding new astonishing details, and thanked the girl when she handed him two paper bags.

When he returned to the cottage he found Jim still on the sofa, balancing both MacBooks on his legs. Sebastian placed the bags on the coffee table and pulled out the cardboard boxes.

"Your boyfriend sent his first report. Apparently he has a natural aversion to punctuation."

Sebastian stared at his laptop. He had changed the password yesterday. How did Jim figure it out __ __ again _ _ ?

"No complaints about me reading your mails? Tsk, Seb, still wondering how I got your password? You should know better." He frowned at the screen. "Fuck, __ __ he _ _ __ should know better. This doesn't even make sense!"

Sebastian suppressed a grin. He knew exactly what Jim was talking about. Liam's writing skills were bad. He got used to it over time, though.

"Eat and I'll read it out to you."

 


	6. Chapter 5 - Did you listen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some plot! (And I'll never finish this story in 30 chapters. If I keep this pace it's probably gonna take 2000)

Chapter 5

**DID YOU LISTEN**

 

Jim went to bed after Sebastian had finished reading the report. He didn't say a word but Sebastian knew him well enough by now, he could see the small twitches when Jim looked towards a lamp or made a fast movement. Sebastian fetched a glass from the kitchen counter and filled it with some cool tap water. He entered the bedroom just in time to see Jim wincing as he tried to pull the seam of his t-shirt over his head. Sebastian crossed the room and grabbed the thin fabric.

"I'm  __ fine _ _ _ " _ , Jim growled and tried to push Sebastian away but Sebastian didn't move. 

"Let me help you."

Jim's hands pushed against his chest for a second time before they stilled in surrender and Sebastian pulled the shirt over his head.

"You know your boyfriend is going to die, don't you?"

Sebastian put the glass on the night stand, ignoring Jim's statement. He had teased him the whole evening, probably waiting for Sebastian to take the bait.

"I'll be with you in fifteen minutes." He had to make the last round of the day. Just to be sure.

It took him twenty. By the time he got back Jim was already fast asleep, one hand buried underneath the pillow, the other one loosely curled in front of his mouth, lips slightly parted. Sebastian closed the door as gentle as possible.

 

The next day started exactly as the one before. Sebastian untangled their limbs and climbed out of bed. As soon as their bodies stopped touching Jim sighed and rolled over to Sebastian's now empty half, his arm pressing Sebastian's pillow to his face. His fingers curled and uncurled in one fluid movement. Sebastian smiled. As good as Jim was hiding his emotional side when he was awake - it was plain obvious when he was sleeping. Every morning - at least every morning since Jim's return - started with Jim clinging to his body as if he was holding on for life.

Sebastian dressed as quick and quiet as possible, making a short trip to the loo before he kneeled down next to the bed and started stroking Jim's naked shoulder. Jim opened half an eye.

"Mhmm", he muttered.

"Good morning."

"Shut u--" A yawn interrupted him. Those short moments before Jim was fully awake were precious.

"I'm out. Shall I bring your laptop?"

Jim managed a short nod. Sebastian let his fingers trail down to Jim's hip and squeezed his side gently before pulling back completely. Another thing he could only do while Jim was still half asleep. Otherwise Jim would stab him for touching him in such a _sentimental way._ Or for touching him at all.

 

He enjoyed the run to the town, the fresh air filling his lungs. The sky was clear for the first time in days and Sebastian decided to take the longer way back, the messenger bag with the newspaper strapped tight to his body. After a few minutes he reached the shore and ran along the thin stripe of sand, increasing the pace until his whole body slowly started burning. This was a feeling he loved, he  _ needed _ , pushing himself to the limit and beyond. By the time he reached the cottage his legs were trembling, his muscles feeling like they were about to be ripped apart. Sweat dripped into his eyes and soaked his clothes. He came to a dead stop in the middle of the living room, panting heavily as he started stretching.  H e  __ definitely _ _  deserved a proper shower now. 

When he entered the bedroom Jim was still in bed with his head buried under both their pillows. When Sebastian crossed the room he groaned and threw one of them after him. The pillow hit his side and dropped to the floor.

" _Stop. Moving._ "

Sebastian huffed and disappeared in the bathroom. He rinsed the sweat off his body, his forehead leaning against the cool tiles while the hot water loosened the arising tension in his shoulders. His legs still felt a bit unsteady and he was looking forward to the moment he could just collaps on the sofa, relaxing his limbs for a bit.

"It would be ridiculously easy to kill you."

Sebastian opened his eyes and turned around to see Jim leaning in the door frame with Sebastian's gun in his hands. His pulse quickened. A million different ways to react ran through his head, words he could say, movements he should make. And in the end the words leaving his mouth surprised him just as much as they surprised Jim.

"Join me?"

 _What?_ But then he saw how Jim stilled for a moment, hestitating, as if he was actually considering it. Then he cocked the gun and aimed at Sebastian's head, his face going completely blank. Sebastian decided to change the plan. He turned the water off, moving as slowly as possible, his arms half raised in defense, his eyes locked on Jim.

"Jim."

"Scared?" Jim sneered and tapped the trigger with the tip of his index finger. "Don't worry Seb." He tipped the trigger again, his fingers playing a dangerous rhythm. Sebastian felt the adrenaline starting to rush through his body, washing away any nervousness. He was focused now, calm, his eyes locked on Jim's finger, his grip around the gun. Ready to react.

Jim finally put the gun down, uncocked it and tossed it on top of Sebastian's towel.

"I'm not the one who's pulling the trigger."

And Jim was right, Sebastian realised. He had let things slide recently - going for a run unarmed, leaving his gun laying around somewhere in the cottage. The quiet had allayed his suspiciouness. Sherlock Holmes was by far not the only threat. He couldn't know how many people actually knew that Jim wasn't dead.

"Sorry", he said frankly and climbed out of the cubicle, carefully placing the gun next to the sink before wrapping the towel around his body. Jim ignored him. He looked like nothing had happened, a slightly bored expression on his face, together with a hint of his usual frown. He stepped out of his pyjama bottoms and scratched his belly. A yawn escaped him. Sebastian studied him through the mirror. Jim still had dark circles under his eyes - they seemed to be part of his face now, permanently carved into his skin - and as he reached up to ruffle his hair Sebastian could still count his rips but overall Jim appeared healthier day after day. At least from the outside.

Sebastian dropped the towel on the pile of clothing waiting in front of the washing machine and got dressed, shamelessly watching Jim's backside as he started to wash himself under the shower.

"Seb. Stop staring. I'm hungry."

Sebastian huffed and left the bathroom, the gun in his hand. He got dressed, then he prepared breakfast and placed the newspapers next to their laptops and had just started eating when Jim joined him, dressed in denim and t-shirt. He took the second plate and  __ The Sun _ _  and settled on the armchair, cross-legged, one of his bare feet wiggling against the fine leather. 

 

Sebastian took care of the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, hoovered the livingroom, and he always kept his gun close. Jim spent the whole morning on the phone, speaking French - again with this threatening intonation. After lunch he switched to the laptops, using both of them simultaneously after complaining about the screen size for about ten minutes straight.

 

Shortly before sunset Sebastian received another call from Liam just as he had reached his spot at the beach. Liam told him that Holmes had disappeared again, along with the two heads of the Amsterdam network. Sebastian had known this would happen so he wasn't particularly surprised. They talked a bit longer than necessary, Liam talked a bit about his son and his upcoming wedding and Sebastian pretended to be interested. Not that he was _uninterested_ but no matter how nice it was to have a normal conversation he could name at least 10 things off-hand that he would prefer to talk about. Kids and happy families just weren't his cup of tea.

"Funny though. Love doesn't make you a better human being." Liam laughed. "Not that I ever honestly tried."

"Does she know you're still in business?"

"Yeh, of course she does. Tried to hide it for a couple months but I'm still a bloody awful liar."

"And she still wants to marry you."

"Can't sponsor her shopping trips with an office job." Liam laughed and Sebastian joined in.

"Fair enough."

"And you can't imagine how bloody expensive weddings can be nowadays."

 

They ended the call eventually and Sebastian stayed for a few more minutes before he walked back to the cottage. Jim was napping when he entered the living room - he still needed an incredible amount of sleep. Some of his pills could knock him out for hours. Sebastian took the MacBooks away and covered Jim in the black wool blanket that was normally hangig over the rest. He even dared to glance at the laptop screen but none of the things he saw told him anything - a few lines of computer code, a lot of French and encrypted e-mails.

Sebastian fetched a book from Jim's bag and made himself comfortable on the flokati carpet in front of the fire place. He propped his back against the sofa and tried to focus on London's less known history, listening to Jim's steady breath. He had managed to read two chapters when Jim rolled over on his side and one hand slid down the sofa and landed on Sebastian's shoulder. His fingertips rested on Sebastian's collarbone, his pinky pressing against the rough scar tissue hidden underneath Sebastian's t-shirt. Sebastian smiled and cocked his head slightly until his face touched Jim's arm. Jim's fingers curled, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt and Sebastian could hear him sigh quietly.

Half an hour later Sebastian tossed the book away, put Jim's hand carefully back on the sofa, laced his boots and slid the gun in his pocket. One last walk around the house before dinner, Sebastian decided and closed the door behind him.

 

The gravel scrunched underneath his boots. It had started to rain, soft little drops, and Sebastian closed the zip of his jacket. He squinted up where the moon and the stars were supposed to be. No Orion today. Just thick, heavy clouds hiding the beautiful night sky. He took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of rain mixed with the salty scent of the ocean when a crackle pierced the silence. Sebastian hestitated for a second but forced himself to keep going. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he knew, he just  __ knew _ _ _ _ he wasn't alone. Sebastian trusted his instincts. They never failed him. Somebody was hiding out in the dark, probably waiting for him to be out of reach so they could get to Jim. So they knew his pattern, were watching them for a while. But for how long? Or did they just assume he'd leave the house every once in a while? Reasonable possibility, he thought, as checking the environment was one of the basics. 

__ Play along, Moran. Don't show them that you know.  _ _

He kept walking along the gravel path down to the shore until he was certain that he was out of sight and out of earshot. Then he quickly untied his boots and slipped out of them, cramming the hems of his jeans into his socks so they wouldn't get in the way and stepped on the grass. The cold wet soaked his socks instantly. He ignored the unpleasant feeling and sneaked back to the cottage, straight across the dark meadow. The clouds covering the sky shrouded the night in darkness. All he could see was the soft glimmer of light pouring through the rills of the shutter. His heart pounded against his chest, blood rushing through his veins and the first jolts of adrenaline flooded his body. He reached the side of the cottage when he heard light footsteps coming closer. He crouched down and pressed his back against the wall, leaving the gun where it was. There had to be at least two people and he couldn't risk alarming whoever was still hiding out there. And, of course, he could need both his hands.

Sebastian closed his eyes for a second and focused on the noises around him.

__ Rain. Wind. Birds. Ocean _ _ _ . Footsteps, still approaching. _

He quickly decided to stay where he was, his body tense, ready to fight. And then something -  __ someone _ _ _ -  _ appeared around the corner and Sebastian held his breath until the person was close enough, then he leaped forward and grabbed the other one's body, one hand shutting the stranger's mouth to muffle any sounds.  __ Male. 6'1". Approximately 160 pound. _ _

Sebastian was in shape and trained in combat but his opponent was strong and Sebastian's socks were wet and slippery. A foot kicked against his knee, a move he could have prevented easily with just a little more stability but now it completely threw him out of balance. Hands clutched his body, swirling him around. His head hit the wall, the blow nearly knocking him out. Sebastian gasped as the pain shot through his head.  __ Fuck. _ _ _ _ He slumped – intentionally, ready to fight, even though he could feel the first drops of blood dripping into his eyes. _ _ The other man took the bait and tried to grab his shoulders but Sebastian ducked just in time, gaining the upper hand again. He rammed the stranger against the wall and clutched his head.

And Sebastian didn't hestitate.

He broke the guy's neck.

The man instantly collapsed and Sebastian didn't waste another second –  _ Jim –  _ and  ran along the wall, his steps still inaudible, blood streaming down his face, until he reached the glass door that lead directly into the living room. It was open. Sebastian drew his gun and cocked it as he stepped into the cottage, his wet socks slipping on the floor.  __ Jim. _ _ _ _ The sofa was empty. He glanced around, checked the kitchen and entered the hallway. The bedroom door was left ajar, light coming out of the room.

"Arnaud vous salue."

__ Idiot. _ _

Sebastian took one deep breath before he raised the gun and kicked the door open. His eyes scanned the room, gathering the situation. Jim  _ \-  _ __ calm, unharmed, expressionless _ _ _ -  _ stood next to the bed, hands buried in his pockets.  _ Held at gunpoint _ . The second intruder -  __ 5'8", approximately 130 pound _ _ _ - _  had the gun in his left hand -  __ Glock 17, 9mm _ _ _ - _ , spinning around as Sebastian bursted through the door. 

The world stopped for the split of a second. Slow motion. This was easy. Sebastian felt the weight of his gun, the wooden butt warming in his palm. A familiar feeling. He wasn't as comfortable with a handgun as he was with his rifle but he knew he could rely on his skills. That's why Jim chose him. That's why he was still here. 

Sebastian pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the man right between his eyes. Perfect shot. The sound ringed in his ears, sending white flashes through his throbbing head. He wavered, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall. _Deep breaths._ He touched the wound on his right temple and whinced. It actually seemed to be worse than expected.

"Stop whining."

Sebastian forced himself to focus on the happenings in front of him again. Jim kneeled next to the corpse on the bedroom carpet and examined his pockets. His face was still completely expressionless. Just as if -

"You knew they'd come, didn't you?", Sebastian asked, sounding a bit dizzy. It made sense, now that he thought about it. Jim's stunt with the gun this morning to remind him to keep it close – a warning -, the heated arguments on the phone and last but not least the thing about  __ visiting an old friend _ _ _ . So someone was after Jim. Someone who wasn't necessarily related to a Holmes.  _

"I was hoping for it." Jim smirked. "Now we're going to France!" He stepped over the dead body and approached Sebastian. "And with now... I mean  __ now _ _ _ . _ "

Sebastian uncocked his gun and dropped it on the bed. He didn't even bother asking any questions. Jim would probably tell him if he considered it relevant.

"I have to get rid of the corpses first." And take care of his head, he added silently.

Jim nodded.

"You should glue that wound."

"Do we have skin glue?"

Jim's smirk turned into a frown as he shrugged. Sebastian sighed. How should Jim know? Sebastian had ordered their first aid kit along with the guns and the car. He stumbled into the bathroom and rolled his eyes as he saw himself in the mirror. Half his face was covered in blood, as was his jacket. He shrugged out of his parka before he took the first aid kit from the shelf and opened it. After scattering half of the content across the room he finally found some gauze pads and pressed them against the wound while looking for the adhersive. He found it eventually. He uncapped it. But first the wound had to stop bleeding.

Jim entered the room with a bag in his hands and started throwing all their belongings into it.

"Where exactly are we going?" There was no harm in asking about their destination. After all he would be the one to drive.

"Reims. That's 80 miles east-northeast of Paris. Oh, that reminds me..." Jim pulled out his phone and dialed.

"We'll take the ferry at 4:45“, he said into his phone.

Sebastian glanced at the clock over the bathroom door. Half past eight. They needed approximately six hours to drive from here to Dover. Sebastian sighed and grabbed another gauze pad.

"I don't care. 4:45." Jim hang up and carelessly tossed his phone on top of the bag before he turned to face Sebastian.

"Sit."

Sebastian furrowed his brow. Jim's finger pointed to the toilet.

"Seb, _obey_."

Sebastian closed the lid and sat down. Jim pushed the hand holding the gauze pads aside. Sebastian hissed.

"Oh come on, Seb." He wet a cloth and started cleaning Sebastian's face. Sebastian's eyes widened. This came entirely unexpected. Words tried to find a way out of him but he managed to shut his mouth. Talking would only scare Jim away. Instead he closed his eyes and focused on Jim's knee brushing against his, ignoring the stinging pain whenever Jim touched the wound. Suddenly the warm wet disappeared - just like the knee - and Sebastian heard him rummaging around the pile of meds.

"Here we go!" Jim somehow seemed to be in an extraordinarily good mood. _What an effect such an unexpected visit could cause._ "Relax and enjoy the pain." Jim sounded far too cheerful for Sebastian's liking.

Sebastian's snort turned into a gasp as Jim pressed the cloth - soaked with disinfectant, judging by the smell and  _ pain  _ \- against his temple.  __ Jesus. _ _  No matter how often he got hurt he still couldn't get used to this part.

"You're such a  __ girl _ _ _ . _ "

"Remind me of that the next time my cock is up your arse." The words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them. Or even think about them. He opened his eyes and stared at Jim, actually fearing the consequences of his remark but Jim only huffed and tossed the cloth into the sink.

"Cheeky." Yes, Jim was definitely in a good mood. Sebastian relaxed a bit. He really didn't want an ill tempered Jim to glue his wound.

Jim applied the adhersive on both sides of the wound and pressed them together. Sebastian grunted and closed his eyes again.

 

Half an hour later he had managed to drag both corpses to the rocks down at the shore. He flipped his knife open and stabbed both bodies, puncturing the tissue to prevent them from resurfacing. Then he shoved them over the edge into the ocean. The sky had cleared up, allowing the moon to brighten the night and Sebastian watched being washed away before they drowned, black spots disappearing in the darkness of the sea. He had a massive headache and the prospect of an six hour drive didn't help improving his mood. And only God knew how long it would take to get from Calais to Reims. Sebastian craved a nap. Or a good, strong coffee. Or a massage. Or all three.

 


	7. Chapter 6 - You'll Be Hearing From Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - this and the next chapter were supposed to be one but my laptop crashed and I couldn't work on the story... had to borrow my mother's laptop and I just got it today. At least I have all my important data stored in "the cloud". 
> 
> Hope you all had a great halloween last week, I totally forgot to mention that. 
> 
> <3 Thanks for reading.  
> Mads

Chapter 6

**YOU'LL BE HEARING FROM ME**

 

A few miles behind Northampton Sebastian's headache became unbearable. He took the next junction, stopped the car at a service area and leaned back on his seat, his hands slightly trembling. Jim, who had fallen asleep two hours ago with his head resting against his shoulder in a weird, unnatural angle, slowly opened his eyes and yawned.

"Why aren't we driving?"

"Head." Sebastian's tongue felt heavy, too heavy to move. Speaking was too difficult and too painful. He heard Jim sigh and saw him twisting on his seat from the corner of his eyes.

"Here." Jim pressed a pill into Sebastian's hand. His voice trembled with annoyance. Sebastian closed his fingers around the pill and recognised the shape as one of Jim's painkillers. He reached between the seats, found the bottle of water, opened it and swallowed the pill without a second thought, emptying the bottle afterwards. 

"We have to catch our ferry." 

Sebastian exhaled. He felt incredibly dizzy and his vision was more than a bit blurry - his eyes couldn't focus anymore. He definitely needed a break. 

"Oh for fuck's sake, move over." Jim was obviously annoyed now but Sebastian couldn't care less. No way he could keep driving. He opened the door and circled the car, supporting himself against the vehicle - it had been a minor blow to the head, why did it affect him so badly? - and collapsed on the passenger seat. This was ridiculous. He had been shot, beaten up, tortured and stabbed.  _Ridiculous_. Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

 

When he woke up the first thing he noticed was the silence. No engine noise. Just the soft patter of rain on the car roof. He forced his eyes open just to see what he had already expected - he was alone. No Jim. Sebastian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, carefully rubbing over his skin. His headache had minimised, just a hazy throbbing where his head had hit the wall. Jim's painkillers were definitely working. Only his throat felt dry and his tongue was sticking to his gums. Gladly Jim's water bottle was still underneath the passenger seat. He was just about to uncap it when the driver's door was pulled open. Sebastian startled and spilled the water all over his jumper.

"Good morning." Jim didn't sound like he was having a particularly  _good_ morning. He threw a parcel in Sebastian's lap.

"How... how late is it?"

"Quarter past four."

Sebastian frowned. He hadn't expected to sleep through the whole night. And had definitely not intended to.

"Get out."

Jim disappeared again. Sebastian unbuckled and opened his door. It was cold and windy outside, making him shiver as he ducked out of the car. The air smelled of sea - so they had actually made it to Dover in time. He took a quick look around. They were on the parking lot of a closed Sainsbury's, as far away from any light source as possible. Jim stood a few feet away in front of a second car's open trunk. Sebastian walked over to him.

"Bring the bags", Jim ordered. 

They worked quick. After not even five minutes the Range Rover was completely empty and Jim crouched down to hide the key in the wheel case.

"You want me to drive?" Sebastian felt better. He wasn't sure if he should drive under the influence of Jim's painkillers - probably not - but Jim was taking them, too. 

Jim shook his head and closed the trunk of their new car - a black Citroen C4.

"You drive after the border."

Sebastian shrugged and entered the car on the right side. He fastened his seatbelt and began to examine the parcel Jim had given him earlier. 

"Open it." 

He pulled his knife out of his pocket - the same one he had used on the corpses earlier - to cut through the tape. Inside the cardboard box were multiple envelopes. He opened the first one and found two passports - one from the United Kingdom, one from France. He flipped the British one open to find his own face staring back at him. He checked the information on the right.  _John Wilkers, born 31.7.1980 in Leeds_.

"1980?", he asked with a smirk. It had been a while since his 31. birthday. Jim just shrugged. He seemed to be completely focused on driving, his right hand grasping the gearstick tightly. Apparently Jim was as unfamiliar with left-hand drive vehicles as Sebastian. 

Sebastian put his new passport aside and looked at Jim's.  _Union européenne - République francaise_. He opened it.  _Jacques Lefèvre._ Born the same year. Sebastian had no idea how old Jim was - he had seen so many passports and documents with various names and various birth dates and even his old  _official_ papers had often differed. Sebastian placed both passports between the seats and opened the second envelope which contained matching driver's licenses. The third one was filled with Euro notes and a  _carte bleue_  - a French credit card.

 

They reached the docks. Jim followed the signs leading to the ferry and pulled into the queue in front of the counters. Only three of them were opened at this time of the day. Sebastian stuffed the parcel back under his seat, keeping only their passports.

When it was their turn Sebastian opened the window on his side and smiled at the middle-aged woman sitting behind the glass panel.

"Good morning, passports please."

"Good morning."

He handed her their new passports. She took them and turned to her computer. It took her a minute or two before she returned, a gentle smile on her face. She gave him the passports back, along with a piece of paper they were supposed to hang on their rear-vision mirror and wished them a safe journey.

 

Twenty minutes later Jim parked the car on the ferry.

Sebastian grabbed a twenty pound note and left the car. They followed the stream of people up the stairs until they reached the restaurant. The ferry wasn't full and they managed to get hold of two rather comfortably looking armchairs next to the windows.

"I'll get us some coffee", Sebastian said. Not that he expected the coffee to be good but sometimes bad coffee was better than no coffee at all. And he craved the coffeine more than the taste. 

Jim nodded and pulled his mobile out of his pocket. Sebastian sighed. Of course.  _Free wifi_. Somehow Jim wasn't any different than the typical teenager nowadays. Well, whatever Jim was doing it was probably much shadier, if not illegal, than anything teenagers did with their phones. 

Sebastian joined the queue behind two giggling French girls who, after glancing at Sebastian for the first time, couldn't stop staring at his face. He frowned and turned to one of the large windows to check his reflection. One quarter of his face was already covered in colourful bruises. Sebastian grimaced. This would get interesting when Jim's painkillers started to abate.

The girls took their cokes and walked away.

"Two coffee please."

 

With one steaming cardboard cup in each hand he returned to Jim who didn't even look up from his mobile. Sebastian placed one cup on the small table between their armchairs and sat down.

"You could have warned me about my face."

"And what exactly would that have changed?"

Fair point. Sebastian leaned back and stretched himself luxuriously before taking a sip from his coffee. Disgusting, as expected. He took another sip. 

"Give me your phone."

Jim wiggled his fingers in front of Sebastian's face.

"I left it in the car."

"Seriously?  _Useless._ "

"Sorry."

Jim crossed his legs and stared out of the window. Sebastian sighed. He tried to remember if he had ever left the country for anything but a job. He doubted it. Relaxed trips to the beach had never been his family's cup of tea. And nowadays he just didn't have the time. The image of Jim laying on a beach lounger crossed his mind. Traces of sunblocker on his nose, a half drunken cocktail in his right hand, a red straw and a cocktail umbrella sticking out of the glass. Sebastian suppressed a chuckle.

 

When they reached Calais, Sebastian entered the car on the left side, adjusted seat, mirrors and steering wheel and followed the huge line of cars and trucks to the border control. Driving on the wrong side of the road always felt weird but he normally got used to it really quickly. 

"Take the A26 until Reims. We should be there in two and a half hours."

Jim toed off his shoes and pressed his feet against the dashboard.

"My mobile is in the glovebox in case you still need it."

 

Two hours and forty-seven minutes later and twenty-two euro toll poorer Sebastian parked the car in front of a pretty, old, white house. His headache had returned - although not as bad as before - and he craved a long hot shower and a comfortable bed. Sebastian grabbed a few bags while Jim carried nothing but the parcel. At least he unlocked the front door.

"Third floor."

"I didn't know you had a safe house in Reims."

"I don't. It's a holiday apartment."

Sebastian followed Jim up the stairs until they reached a glossy white apartment door. Jim pulled a second key out of his pocket. 

"Home, sweet home", he cooed and entered the flat. Sebastian dropped the bags and closed the door behind him. Then he took a look around. It was a generous maisonette, completely open-plan with a stainless steel staircase in the center. Modern American kitchen, minimalist living and dining room. Sebastian whistled appreciatively. 

"Unpack the bags and get us some food." Jim collapsed on the sofa. "And bring my charger."

Sebastian hestitated. He was tired, his head hurt and he knew that once Jim got started he wouldn't let both of them rest until the job was done. He checked his watch. Quarter to eleven.

"Jim", he said carefully, "May I propose something?"

Jim frowned at him but didn't object.

"Let's sleep until 3 and then we go out and get everything we need. I could use your help with that because, as you know, I don't speak any French and Frenchmen usually don't speak English."

"I'm not tired."

"But I am. I need some rest."

Jim sighed.

"Fine. I have to make a few calls. Go upstairs, I'll be right there."

Sebastian  _knew_  that Jim was also tired. He hadn't taken his medication the night before and his movements were slow, his speech slightly slurred. 

Sebastian grabbed his dufflebag and went upstairs. The second floor wasn't open-plan but there were only two doors. Sebastian opened the one to his left and found a medium sized bathroom. After finishing his business he took the second door to the bedroom, a room as minimalist as the rest of the flat, and stripped down to his pants before collapsing on the bed.   _Perfect_. He groaned. The mattress was soft and comfortable and fluffy... 

Sebastian was already dozing off when Jim entered the room.

"Move over!", Jim ordered. Sebastian muttered something unintelligible and shuffled over to the other side of the bed. He felt Jim's weight pushing down the mattress and rolled over on his back, turning his head to face Jim. His eyes widened in surprise. Jim was stark naked.

"Don't even think about it." He tucked himself in. "Here." He handed Sebastian his own mobile. Sebastian sighed. So much for sleeping. He glanced at the screen. It showed a picture of a middle-aged man, thin brown hair, dark eyes, sharp features. 

"Arnaud Goulet, 42, arms dealer. He's trying to hide here in Reims."

"Did he send those guys from yesterday?"

"Yes."

"What do you need from him?"

Jim reached over and navigated to the next image. The displayed man seemed familiar. Sebastian furrowed his brow.

"I know him... Hang on... That's André Bouchon, isn't it?" As far as he knew Bouchon was a French politician who was considered  _the_ top candidate for the next presidential elections which would take place in May. He had read about him in one of Jim's newspapers. Not that he was particularly interested in French politics.

"Correct."

"He'll be president in two months."

Jim chuckled.

"No, he won't. You will kill him first."

  
_Oh._  Sebastian raised his eyebrows. That was  _insane_. He grinned. He liked this.

"Arnaud is hiding from me. Arnaud used to work for me but decided to betray me. Stupid little man thought just because I'm dead he could go and use my weapons to sponsor a politician's dirty hobbies. Little did he know that I'm not even dead." Jim chuckled. "That's why we will get rid of him. But he also knows where Bouchon will be. And that is the tricky part, Seb. Bouchon is  _smart_. It isn't hard to figure out where he is or where he was. But if you want to get Bouchon you need to know where he  _will be_. Arnaud is the easiest way to get that information." 

"But why kill Bouchon, too?"

"Arnaud is nothing but a puppet. People like Bouchon think they can do whatever they want. I need to make an example. Besides - as you said, he'd be president in two months. I can't allow that to happen." Jim chuckled again. "Oh, did I mention he has a special supporter in the UK who doesn't seem to know anything about his illegal weapon deals?"

"Let me guess. Mycroft Holmes?" It was the only logical assumption.

"Exactly."

"So making an example, getting rid of someone annoying and pissing off Mycroft Holmes all at once."

Jim pressed his naked body against Sebastian's side. 

"And it's all going to happen under your name. Well, not your _name_. Rather your position."

"What is that? Jim's cranky bitch?"

Jim nudged him and wrapped one arm around his chest.

"My right hand, Seb. But feel free to leave a signed note on Bouchon's corpse." 

"I'd love to see Holmes' face when he reads a note signed by  _Jim's cranky bitch._ "   

They both laughed. Sebastian slid his arm under Jim's head and pulled him even closer. Jim's emerging good mood was astonishing. Getting back to his usual business seemed to work wonders on Jim. 

He set an alarm for quarter to three and put his phone aside.

Time to sleep.


	8. Chapter 7 - Skin You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, bit late today. 
> 
> WARNING: Graphic violence. I should probably mention that even though it could be worse.

 

Chapter 7 

  
**SKIN YOU**

Sebastian was not a bad person. He had killed, tortured, kidnapped, bribed and blackmailed but still he had never considered himself as  bad. After all it was just part of his job. Somebody had to do the dirty work. And the work he had done for the crown had often been worse than anything he was doing for Jim. At some point Sebastian had asked himself why killing the same kind of people in the name of Jim was considered a crime when he'd be called a hero otherwise. He wasn't complaining, though. He loved his job, he  enjoyed  it. But whereas men like Mycroft Holmes would probably call him bad  - evil -  Sebastian was just doing what exactly the same men wanted him to do in the first place, what they had him learn, what they had ordered in censored files full of blackened names, desperately trying to disguise their true identities. He had been considered a good man as long as his victims kept dying in the name of the crown. 

But Jim was different. Completely different. Sebastian had seen him killing his staff just because they had  _bored_  him. And Jim didn't care about children or innocent people. It was about  _fun_  and  _just because he could._  He took what he needed and always preferred a corpse over a witness. Even if that witness was a scared three year old kid. Jim  _was a bad man._

 

So when Jim handed him a flashy red drill with a mischievous smile on his lips Sebastian was anything but surprised. After their short nap they had googled a hardware store and now, just after four o'clock, they stood between two shelves full of drills with their trolley already filled with a variety of tools. Jim seemed jittery, bouncing from one foot to the other, his smirk never leaving his face. 

"What else do you need?" Jim's excellent mood lasted. Sebastian knew exactly it wouldn't last  forever  but for the time being he tried to enjoy it. 

"I think we got it." He checked the trolley.  Screwdrivers, tongs, saws, a car battery, jump leads, nails, hammer, Jim's flashy red drill...  He didn't even need half of it but Jim's mood was contagious. Slowly but steady he started to feel something like  anticipation . Sebastian glanced over the tools for a second time and bit his bottom lip.  Something was still missing...

"Okay, we still need cable ties and duct tape." 

They easily detected the tape but the cable ties were nowhere to be found. People were still staring at Sebastian's face and it slowly started to annoy him. It wasn't even  that   bad. Most of the bruising was hidden by his hair. Sebastian frowned at a boy who kept staring at him and checked the shelves for the second time -  they had to be here. 

"Oh fuck this, can't they just organise their store properly?" 

Jim rolled his eyes, grabbed Sebastian by his arm and dragged him over to one of the red dressed staff. The young man seemed utterly bored, his sleeves carelessly rolled up and he squinted carefully at Jim as they approached him, just as if he couldn't believe that someone actually wanted something from him. 

"En quoi puis-je vous être utile?" 

"Salut", Jim said and sounded incredibly cheerful, "nous cherchons des serre-câbles." 

"Là-bas", the man said and pointed towards the exact shelve Sebastian had rummaged before. Sebastian groaned. 

"Merci beaucoup." Jim walked over to the shelve and returned not even twenty seconds later - with the cable ties in his hands.  

"You kidding me?" Sebastian frowned. 

"Maybe that blow to your head made you stupid." 

They paid and left the hardware store with two full plastic bags. Sebastian put them in the trunk. 

"You need a suit." 

Jim was right. 

"And I assume you know a good tailor in Reims?" 

"Of course I do." 

 

Jim showed him the way to an unremarkable small house in the heart of Reims. An elderly man opened the door when they rang, a gentle, polite smile on his face. Jim instantly pulled Sebastian closer and buried one hand in Sebastian's back pocket. Sebastian startled but forced himself to relax into the touch. So it was time for  _utterly gay Jim_ again. 

"Bonjour." 

"Bonjour! Jacques Lèfevre, mon concubin John. Il a besoin de un costume adéquat... mais il, hélas, ne parle pas de francais." 

"Ah, pas de problème! Entrez, s'il vous plaît." The man stepped aside. Jim dragged him through the short hallway into a gigantic room full of suits and fabrics. 

"Est-ce que vous voulez boire quelque chose?" 

Jim turned to face Sebastian. 

"Fancy a drink?" 

"Coffee, please." 

"Deux." 

The tailor nodded and disappeared in the back. Jim collapsed on one of the few, comfortable looking armchairs and crossed his legs. 

"We'll get you one made-to-measure suit and a combo off the rack. Any preferences?" 

Sebastian knew he was supposed to shake his head, so he shook his head. Jim huffed. The tailor came back, two white cups in his hands. He placed the coffee on the table next to Jim, pulled out a measuring tape and started asking a bunch of questions. Jim answered all of them with his quirky, high-pitched voice and Sebastian just stood there while the old man picked out several suits and showed them to Jim. 

 

Two hours later Sebastian owned a new navy suit off the rack, several tight fitting shirts and two pair of suit trousers. The made-to-measure suit would take a while but Jim had managed to speed things up a little. Sebastian didn’t want to know what exactly he had told the tailor.

 

Jim was on the phone the whole way back. When Sebastian came back down from the bedroom Jim was just about to put his phone aside.

“You will go and get Arnaud at midnight. I have someone to help you.“

“Okay.“ He sat down on the sofa. “Do we have something to sedate him?“

“I’ll let Guillaume take care of that. Now go and get some sleep.“

Sebastian still had questions. Where would they take Arnaud? Who was this Guillaume? What was the plan? But just as he opened his mouth to start asking Jim made another call. Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes. He could ask later.

 

He wasn't particularly nervous but somehow tensed when he left the apartment. Jim’s employee, a blonde giant, was waiting for him in front of the house. 

“Hello. I’m Guillaume.“

“Sebastian.“ They shook hands.

"Two bodyguards. Easy", Guillaume said with his strong French accent as they entered his black Peugeot. Sebastian nodded and loaded his gun with subsonic ammunition. _Just in case._ Along with the new silencer he would at least not alarm the whole neighbourhood. 

"Do you have the anesthetic?" 

Guillaume pointed at the glove box. Sebastian retrieved a syringe and put it in his pocket. Ten minutes later Guillaume parked the car in the middle of a pretty housing estate.

“There. The house on the left.“ 

Sebastian looked out of the window and took a deep breath.  _Let's do this_. They left the car and approached the building.

“I take care of the alarm“, Guillaume said and vanished around the corner. Sebastian drew his gun and cocked it. He waited until Guillaume gave him a signal that the alarm had been deactivated, then he opened the door and entered Arnaud Goulet's safe house. _Kitchen and dining room to the left. Living room to the right. Small bathroom next to the stairs. Two bedrooms, one office and one large bathroom upstairs._ The flat was dark and quiet but Sebastian didn't trust the silence. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. The shutters weren't fully closed, letting some of the sparse moonlight in so Sebastian could at least see the corners of the furniture. Guillaume entered the house behind him and closed the front door without making any sound. Sebastian glanced around. All the doors were closed.  
He constantly maintained the tension in his body as he approached the stairs – _carpeted, perfect_ -, waving one hand to tell Guillaume to check the rest of the ground floor. The master bedroom was the second door on the left. Sebastian presumed that one of the two bodyguards was waiting in the hallway, probably just behind the corner, in front of the bedroom. At least that was how he'd do it.

He took the last step and pressed his back against the wall. The other bodyguard had to be downstairs. _Living room. Probably resting. Easy._ He closed his eyes and listened. 

His breath was calm, his pulse only slightly elevated. This was the part he loved. The waiting, the calmness.

A creak sounded, like someone shifting his weight on a wooden chair, and Sebastian smiled. He could simply turn around the corner and shoot the bodyguard but that would definitely startle Arnaud Goulet. The better idea was to simply wait until Guillaume found the second man. And waiting didn't bother him.

Sebastian heard a stifled yawn. He allowed his body to relax, at least a bit. They had time. The night had just begun.

Not even half a minute later something -  _someone_ \- fell to the ground with a loud bang.  Sebastian holstered his gun when he heard the bodyguard pushing his chair back. He wouldn't need it.

The bodyguard came around the corner. 

Sebastian leaped forward, pressed the man against the wall and broke his neck before he could even realise what was happening to him. _Too easy_. Sebastian caught the collapsing body and placed him carefully on the floor. No reason to wake Arnaud up. He sneaked over to the bedroom door and pushed it open.  
Moonlight lightened the room, making it easy to see as his eyes had finally fully adjusted to the darkness. A soft snoring came from the bed. Sebastian pulled the aneasthetic out of his pocket and removed the plastic cap from the needle. He checked the man's face to make sure it was definitely Arnaud Goulet – he was - and then jabbed the syringe into his neck. 

Arnaud woke up, his eyes widening in panic as he saw Sebastian but just before he could make a sound Sebastian covered his mouth with his hand. Arnaud's fingers slid over his chest and Sebastian used his second hand to push them down.

"Shush. Moriarty requests a conversation with you." 

Fear was written all over Arnaud's face. He tried to speak but his words stifled against Sebastian's palm. He struggled and convulsed and tried to free his hands but Sebastian simply leaned on Arnaud's chest, pressing him down, and waited until Arnaud's body went limp. Sebastian waited for a few moments before he released Arnaud's arms and bent over to pick up the syringe he had dropped on the floor. He put the lid back on the needle and shoved it into his pocket.

"Guillaume!" 

The giant entered the room with an appreciative nod and lifted Arnaud up as if he weighted nothing. Sebastian uncocked his gun before he followed Guillaume back downstairs – he hadn't done it before, too noisy -, through the flat to the black car where Guillaume dumped Arnaud in the trunk. 

 

 

They drove out of town to a rather small industrial area and Guillaume parked his car in front of a warehouse. It was a cliché but warehouses had one great advantage – normally nobody could hear anybody scream. Sebastian glanced over the area. The place wasn't abandoned. At least three cameras were pointing in their direction.  
"The cameras are save until six. Then you must leave", Guillaume explained as he noticed Sebastian's look.

Sebastian nodded. He checked his watch. Arnaud would wake up within the next thirty minutes. That left them with five hours. _Good._  Arnaud would never last for five hours. 

He opened the door for Guillaume and entered the warehouse after him. They followed the line of gigantic shelves until they reached the back of the building. Two chairs stood in front of one of the roller doors, one of the bags laying next to them. So Jim was already here - somewhere.

Sebastian watched Guillaume dropping the unconscious Arnaud on the floor.

"Anything else?", Guillaume asked. Sebastian shook his head. 

“No. Just take care of the bodies." 

“Sure.“ Guillaume left. Sebastian bent down and grabbed Arnaud’s body to lift him up and onto the chair when something suddenly touched his back.

 

“Hello.“

Sebastian startled and dropped Arnaud whose head hit the edge of the chair in a rather unpleasant angle.

"Fuck", he exclaimed, "Jim, for God's sake." Jim was one of the few people who could actually sneak up on him. And he _hated_ it.

Jim chuckled and ran his fingers up Sebastian’s back to pinch his neck. Sebastian shivered involuntarily.

“Look at him. Poor Arnaud. Dying in his pyjama bottoms.“

Sebastian sat Arnaud on the chair but as soon as he removed his hands from Arnaud’s shoulders he started slipping off the seat. Sebastian growled.

“Could you hold him for a second, please?“

Jim raised his eyebrows.

“Alright, then…“ Sebastian turned to the duffle bag next to him and let Arnaud fall off the chair. He retrieved a bunch of cable ties and put them on the floor in front of him. As soon as Arnaud was placed back where he belonged he strapped his limbs to the chair. Arnaud started to move slightly. 

"He's waking up", Sebastian informed Jim, placed the second chair reversed in front of Arnaud and sat down, arms crossed on the rest. Jim was leaning against the wall between two roller doors, his eyes locked on Sebastian. His smirk was gone now, banished by his usual frown.

 

Five minutes later Arnaud started groaning. Sebastian smiled and leaned forward to slap his face. 

“ _Bonjour.“_  

Arnaud panicked immediately. He tried to free his hands, struggling against his bonds. 

"Please..." 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. 

"Well, Arnaud, this is pretty simple. You tell me what you know about Bouchon's whereabout and I won't hurt you." That was a pretty obvious lie. He would hurt Arnaud anyway.

Arnaud exhaled in despair and closed his eyes. He seemed to calm down and Sebastian remembered how Jim had told him that Arnaud was used to unusual _interrogation techniques_. Sebastian didn’t mind. It was more fun this way.

Jim quietly approached them until he stood directly behind Arnaud’s back.

"Arnaud, my friend, you've never been particularly smart." Jim put his hands on Arnaud's shoulders and chuckled as the man startled. Apparently Jim’s simple presence was enough to shatter Arnaud’s calmness into pieces. Maybe this wouldn’t be so much fun after all.

"Betraying me. Tsk tsk, Arnaud. Not smart." 

Jim softly stroked Arnaud's left cheek. Arnaud clenched his teeth.  

"Sebastian." 

And Sebastian lifted himself up, adjusted his shirt and spread some of the tools on the chair.

„Alright. Let's get started, shall we?" He picked up a screwdriver and twirled it between his fingers.

 

The first person Sebastian had tortured for Jim had endured it all without a whimper. He had stared at Sebastian, completely calm, as Sebastian became more and more desperate. Jim had told him how important these information were to him and what kind of punishment would wait for Sebastian if he failed.

And no matter how hard he tried, the man refused to talk. Refused to _make a sound_ , nothing but stifled grunts and groans. After what seemed like days the man just dropped dead. Sebastian could still remember the feeling in his guts when the man's head hit the floor. And then, all of the sudden, Jim approached him from the darkness of the room, slowly clapping, an amused smile on his face.

"You killed him", he said and Sebastian could feel his stomach dropping.

"I... I thought he'd talk, I..." He was panicking. Sweat started to pour out of every pore of his body, dyeing his shirt dark blue.

"Oh, Seb.“ Jim cupped his cheeks with both hands, his thumbs pressing hard against his cheekbones. “He didn't even know it."

And only then Sebastian had realised that all of this had been nothing but a test. Jim had sacrificed one of his men to test him.

 

Sebastian grinned as he remembered that day and began to heat the tip of the screwdriver with his lighter.

Arnaud wasn't quiet. When the hot metal touched his thigh he groaned and convulsed slightly, involuntarily, his legs trying to shuffle away from the burning pain. Sebastian pressed the tip into the flesh, just for a split second, before he withdrew. Jim’s hands were holding Arnaud’s face now and he pulled Arnaud’s chin up so he had to look at him.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?“ Jim seemed like he was definitely having _fun_.

"How did you find me?“

Jim snorted

"Guillaume. I told you before, you’re not a smart man. Did you really forget who introduced you to him?“

Arnaud groaned and closed his eyes. Sebastian reheated the screwdriver. This time he dug the tip deep into the flesh of Arnaud’s inner thigh, only inches below his crotch. Arnaud convulsed again but managed to stifle his howl before it even escaped his mouth. Sebastian dropped the screwdriver and picked up a tong instead. After going crazy in the hardware store he had to use at least half of the tools they had bought. Not that he couldn’t make him talk with nothing but his hands.

"Look."

Arnaud didn't react. Sebastian slapped him, his fingertips hitting the back of Jim's hand. Jim just frowned at him.

"Look at me", Sebastian repeated and Arnaud opened his eyes. Sebastian cut the cable tie to release Arnaud’s right hand. He held his wrist while he grabbed one of Arnaud's fingernails with the tong and pulled. He remembered the one time someone had done that to _him_ vividly. When Arnaud didn’t even flinch Sebastian was sincerely impressed. He _had_ flinched. More than that, actually, but Sebastian refused to think about that.

"Where's Bouchon?" Sebastian pulled the second fingernail and Arnaud gasped. _At least,_ Sebastian thought and hit the exposed flesh with the tip of the tong. Arnaud tried to pull back his hand and Sebastian punished him with a second hit.

“Come on. Where can we find Bouchon?“

“Can’t you find him without me?“

Jim cooed and patted Arnaud’s head.

“I like you! Such a shame.“ He lowered his head until his mouth was right beside Arnaud’s ear. “So much potential going to waste.“

“Go to hell, Moriarty.“

Jim chuckled.

“If there’s a God I am sure your wish will come to fulfilment.“ He threw the tools off the chair and sat down, legs crossed, hands folded in front of his chest, and watched Sebastian.

“Go get ´em, tiger“, he said with a smirk. Sebastian took a new cable tie and refastened Arnaud’s arm before he turned back to the screwdriver.

 

Nearly an hour later Arnaud was about to break. Blood was dripping down his bare chest, over his burned nipples, soaking his old pyjama bottoms. He had started crying silently just a few minutes ago, his chest heaving rapidly with ragged breathing. Sebastian cleaned his bloody hands on his button down and picked up the red drill. He heard Jim moving on the chair and turned to see Jim staring at him in anticipation. Sebastian nearly smiled as he drilled a hole in Arnaud’s leg. Jim seemed to be really fond of the drill.

Arnaud threw up all over himself.

“Arnaud, you can end this easily.“

Sebastian drilled a second hole.

“Okay! Okay.“ Arnaud coughed. “Just stop.“

Jim stood up and closed the top button of his jacket. Sebastian put the drill aside.

“He’s in Marseille. In a safe house, he’s very well protected, you won’t be able to get to him there.“

Jim pinched Arnaud’s burned nipple. The man howled with pain.

“Don’t _bore_ me.“

Arnaud sobbed and panted out three addresses in Marseille.

“He’ll meet one of my men at one of these places. I don’t know when, André will call my contact minutes before the meeting. Please…“

Sebastian was surprised when he saw disappointment flashing over Jim’s face. Why should he be disappointed? He got what he wanted, didn’t he? He heard Jim sigh and furrowed his brow. And then he realised it - Arnaud gave in. The fun was over. Arnaud was _boring_ now.

"I hope you’re telling the truth, mon ami. As you might have noticed Sebastian is quite talented with his tools and I’m sure he’d love to come back for your children.“

Jim forced a bittersweet smile on his face. Going after the children was always the easiest way to get information but also complicated in the process. Letting the children survive wasn’t an option and when parents realised that their kids would die anyway their behaviour became unpredictable.

Arnaud shuddered.

"It's the truth."

“Good for you, then. Seb, take your time." Jim leaned back to watch. Sebastian connected  the jump leads with the car battery and took his time. 

Arnaud didn't even try to beg for his life. When Sebastian accidentally shocked him for longer than intended Arnaud lost his consciousness.

"Didn't you say he was used to torture?" Sebastian had seen worse, yes, but he had definitely met a lot of people who resisted much longer, including him. Jim snorted.

"Well, obviously he isn't."

Sebastian looked at Jim, the jump leads still in his hands.

“Do you want me to wake him up?"

"Nah, I don't know. Getting a bit boring, isn't it?" Jim sighed. "What a  _baby._ “ He reached forward to open Sebastian's holster and pulled out the gun. 

“Now wake him up." 

Sebastian slapped Arnaud until the man started groaning again. Jim, still sitting on the chair, raised the gun, cocked it and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Arnaud's stomach. Arnaud barely made a sound, he had already given up on himself. His chin hit his chest.

"Pack. We're leaving." 

Sebastian nodded and threw all the used tools in the bag. Jim was talking to Arnaud in French and even though Sebastian couldn't understand a word he recognised the dangerously bored tone. Finally Sebastian unbuttoned his blood-stained shirt, shoved it into the bag and retrieved a clean one from the outside pocket. When he turned around, the duffle bag in his hand, Jim was on the phone, his hand ruffling Arnaud's hair. 

"Guillaume, c'est à toi." Jim put the phone back in his pocket. "Au revoir, Arnaud. - Sebastian, leave the bag here. Guillaume will take care of it." 

Sebastian dropped the bag and took one last look back at Arnaud who was covered in blood and sweat, silent tears running down his face, before he followed Jim through the warehouse to their car waiting for them across the street.

 

"Hurry up, Moran." 

Sebastian adjusted the seat. Jim's voice was sharp. His good mood seemed to have disappeared completely. Sebastian sighed and started the engine. He had enjoyed the past few hours. Jim had been so joyful and full of life. Not even one month ago Jim had been _dead._

 

After closing the apartment door behind them Sebastian checked his watch. Half past four. He hadn't expected things to go so smooth. It had been too easy and he could see in Jim's face that he had hoped for something more challenging, too. Sebastian knew Jim was in a dangerous mood now. His motions were just a tad bit too controlled, his breathing slightly louder than usual and the blank expression on his face seemed forced. Jim toed off his shoes and collapsed on the sofa, his limbs sprawled over the cushions. Sebastian hesitated. He had to do exactly the right thing now - but he had no idea what the right thing was. Was Jim satisfied enough with Sebastian’s work so he could push him a little? Or should he better leave him alone for a while?

"Are you going to stand there for the rest of the night? It's annoying." 

Sebastian made a decision. He lifted Jim's legs and sat down, placing Jim's feet on his lap. He pushed up Jim's trousers legs and started stroking his shins. 

"So we'll go to Marseille?“

"No.  _You_   will go to Marseille." 

_Oh well_. Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes. 

"Who'll stay with you?" 

"Guillaume. I can't wait to have his dick inside me." 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

"That's not what I meant." 

Jim's heel hit his crotch the exact moment he realised that he had rolled his eyes. He doubled over in pain as the last bit of air escaped his lungs. 

"Don't roll your eyes." 

"Sorry", Sebastian panted. Jim huffed and moved to straddle Sebastian's lap. 

"Don't worry,  _Moran_ , we both know there's only one dick I'd allow inside me without cutting it off." Jim wrapped his arms around Sebastian and leaned his forehead against Sebastian's shoulder, his hot breath burning through the thin fabric of his shirt. The pain in Sebastian's crotch was still throbbing. He was far away from arousal. 

"Very reassuring", he said because Jim had obviously switched into a more playful mood again - unless Jim was faking this to make Sebastian do something he could punish him for later. One never knew for sure. Sebastian decided to chance it. 

"How about you?", Jim whispered and licked Sebastian's neck. A shiver ran down Sebastian's spine. 

"Me what?" 

"Whose dick would you allow inside you?" 


	9. Chapter 8 - I Own Secrecy

Chapter 8

**I OWN SECRECY**

"Whose dick would you allow inside you?"

Sebastian choked on his own breath and started coughing. He was never quite sure whether Jim was teasing, questioning or talking dirty but no matter what - this time he was caught completely off guard. He started tearing up as he tried to breath again, one deep cough after another shaking his body until he somehow managed to inhale, finally filling his lungs with oxygen.

Jim rolled his hips, rubbing his crotch against Sebastian's belly.   
  
" _Mo-o-oran"_ , he cooed and nibbled at Sebastian's earlobe, "Answer me."   
  
Sebastian considered his options and decided to take a risk.   
  
“Holmes’s“, he said andgrinned. Never ever would he let any Holmes near his backside.

Jim snorted.

“Which one?“

Sebastian grabbed Jim's arse with one hand and pulled him closer, the other one cupping the back of Jim's head, his palm pressing against the thick scar that was only partially hidden by Jim’s slightly too long hair.

“Both, at the same time“, he said and leaned his forehead against Jim’s, "But I would _love_ to have yours, too.“

He had indeed spent quite an amount of time fantasising about Jim topping, saying otherwise would be a blatant lie. But the reason he had never proposed it was simple - it scared him. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that Jim actually relinquished any control to Sebastian when they had sex but as long as Sebastian was on top he still had the feeling of physical superiority. He knew he could break Jim's neck with little to no effort. But with Jim on top - Jim could _hurt_ him, _damage_ him in the blink of an eye.

Besides Sebastian hadn't bottomed for anybody in years. _Decades._

"Oh, you'd let me in?" Jim rubbed himself against Sebastian and one of those nearly inaudible sighs escaped him. "Bet you'd love that." 

Sebastian opened Jim's fly and tried to push down his trousers but Jim's position, his legs spread over Sebastian's, didn't allow it. Sebastian moaned and began unbuttoning Jim's shirt instead. His body urged to kiss Jim but he had to wait, wait until Jim initiated. This was one of the most important rules and as always he had to remind himself as he stared at Jim’s parted lips and the tip of his tongue flicking over them. With nimble movements Sebastian started stroking Jim's chest, outlining his shape. And then - _finally_ \- Jim bent down and closed the distance between them. Their lips collided. Sebastian sighed into their kiss, his hands grabbing Jim's hips to pull him even closer  although their bodies were already pressed together as tight as possible.

"Bedroom?", he asked because no matter how comfortable the sofa was, it was simply too small to perform well on it. Jim nodded and slid of Sebastian's lap. Sebastian admired the view - the open shirt hanging from Jim's shoulders, the open slacks showing off the dark skin-tight pants underneath, his hair already completely dishevelled. Sebastian pushed himself up and as soon as Jim turned his back on him he wrapped his arms around the smaller body, clasping him tight, his crotch pressed against the small of Jim's back. His hands trailed down, grabbing trousers and pants and Sebastian went down on his knees, taking the clothes with him. He bit into the soft skin in front of him, gently - but not gentle enough not to leave any marks. This was probably overstepping quite a few lines but Jim had been in such a good mood that Sebastian couldn’t help himself. He had to risk it.

The first few faked groans escaped Jim's mouth and Sebastian punished him with another - _harder_ \- bite into his left cheek. Jim shivered and all of the sudden twisted his body around and shoved Sebastian so he lost his balance, his tailbone painfully hitting the floor. With a smirk on his face Jim climbed on top of Sebastian and pinned his arms down with his knees before he started unbuttoning Sebastian's shirt. 

"Sorry. Seems like I’ve changed my mind." 

 

Their sex life had always been rather special - mainly due to Jim's odd libido but also because the act itself was always following the exact same pattern. Jim had to be the one initiating. And he would never give anything but his body. He had never touched or tasted Sebastian's penis. Sometimes it bothered Sebastian because he had seen Jim perform quite a variety of sexual acts with others, but then he always reminded himself that all of them had been acted, staged, and that he was the only one getting the _real_ Jim. And somehow he preferred the real Jim although that meant he had to be content with what little Jim was willing to give him. Furthermore he was absolutely sure that Jim would have no problem if Sebastian decided to get his satisfaction elsewhere. They weren't in a relationship - and especially not in an exclusive one. 

So when Jim sunk down on Sebastian, his cheeks flushed, his teeth biting his bottom lip, Sebastian was more than surprised. This was a novelty. And it felt _so good._ Sebastian forgot about the hard floor underneath him, forgot about the nearly 48 hours without proper sleep, forgot about the slight throbbing in his head. His eyes locked on this one spot between them and he had to force himself not to thrust into Jim but to enjoy the slow - _extremely slow_ \- pace Jim was setting. Finally - after what seemed like _hours_ \- Jim leaned forwards until his lips met Sebastian's and Sebastian melted into the touch and he pushed himself up, propping his body on one elbow, his free hand cupping Jim's face.

Their faces were only inches apart. Sebastian stared into Jim's eyes, huge brown circles, and for a few moments everything else disappeared. This was yet another change in theirrelation. Jim somehow wasn't the same person anymore and it became more and more obvious no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He seemed _closer_.

When Jim forced his tongue into Sebastian's mouth Sebastian forgot how to think. Automatically his hand slid down between their bodies and started to stroke Jim's erection, adapting the pace as they moved together, rolling their hips, their thrusts meeting, eyes locked on each other, panting into each others mouth until Jim's arms suddenly yielded, his muscles twitching and Sebastian tried his best to support them both as their movements became erratic. 

They tumbled over the edge.

Jim collapsed on top of Sebastian and Sebastian leaned back, relieving his arm from both their weight. He put one hand on Jim's back, digging the second one into his hair, slowly stroking the back of his head while he tried to catch his breath. 

"You'll leave tomorrow morning." Jim pushed himself up and just walked away as if nothing had happened. Sebastian sighed. Pillow talk was obviously not their area of expertise. He wiped the sweat off his face and sat up. The lube bottle had fallen over, soaking the probably extremely expensive carpet with oil-based lubricant. 

"Great." He picked up the bottle and set it aside. Hopefully Jim wouldn't notice until he was gone. And if he was really lucky Jim wouldn't notice at all. At least the carpet was dark. Sebastian used the kitchen sink to clean himself superficially, cooling his heated skin. He could hear the shower  still running upstairs. Sebastian yawned and collected their clothes, folded them neatly and put them on the stairs, pulling his mobile out of his pocket. Quarter past five. He unlocked the screen and navigated through the contacts, hesitating for a moment before he dialled. Naked as he was he collapsed on the sofa, his legs dangling over the edge. 

"You have any idea what time it is in Amsterdam?" Liam sounded drowsy with sleep, his voice deep and husky.  

"I need you to meet me in Marseille tomorrow." 

"Bloody hell. And you couldn't wait another two fucking hours to tell me that?" 

Sebastian chuckled. 

"I'm hopefully asleep by then." 

"Hang on." Liam yawned for ten seconds straight. "Alright Seb. I'm awake. Shoot." 

"Marseille. Tomorrow", Sebastian repeated and rubbed his face with his free hand. Asking Liam was more or less a spontaneous idea. This job could take any turn and he could definitely use a helping hand.

"Got that part the first time. When, why, what?" 

"Tomorrow at 1pm, I'll text you an address. Got a job and I think I could use some help." 

"Fine. Twenty." 

Sebastian snorted. Twenty thousand pound was a ridiculous amount of money. 

"Not going to happen, Liam. Moriarty's dead, remember? We're back to old salaries."

"Oi! Do you have any idea how bloody expensive a wedding is nowadays? And your friend Holmes just destroyed my workplace.“ 

_Alright._ Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Fifteen plus expenses." 

"Just so you know, _Colonel_ , I'll get the most expensive hotel room I can find." 

"Sod off, Liam." 

Liam laughed and hang up on him. Sebastian dropped his phone on the carpet - only inches away from the wet spot - and closed his eyes. 

"Are you done chatting with your boyfriend?" 

Sebastian startled when Jim's voice cut through the silence. He twisted on the sofa to get a look at Jim, who was standing on the highest step, stark naked, his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

"Get dressed." 

"Not for bed, I assume?" 

Jim disappeared without another word. With a huff Sebastian pushed himself up and followed Jim upstairs, taking their clothes with him, into the bedroom, where Jim was already sitting on the bed, his laptop on his lap. Sebastian suppressed a sigh. He was tired, _incredibly tired_  and Jim had to be, too, but apparently the job wasn't done yet. 

"My gown." Jim reached out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Sebastian followed the order and held the laptop until Jim had wrapped himself into the soft fabric before he got dressed himself. Denim and jumper, nothing too fancy.

"Sit." Jim patted on the free space next to him. "I will not pay your boyfriend." 

"I will." 

Jim glanced at him. 

"Hopefully you remember whom the accounts you have access to actually belong." 

Sebastian bit his bottom lip. He hadn't forgotten about this fact, no, but he _had_  forgotten to take his card with him, meaning that he couldn't get any of his private money. He hadn't touched it for over a year anyway. Jim had rescued most of his money by making new accounts under Sebastian's name - and various others - before Mycroft Holmes could get hold of it. And instead of paying Sebastian he had just given him access. 

"So how much are you going to pay me for this job?" 

Jim snorted. 

"You will take the train to Paris at 6:38. Your plane leaves at 9:20 so you should be in Marseille at 10:35. Tickets are on your phone." 

Sebastian hadn’t expected an answer anyway.

"Okay, boss." 

"Call Guillaume. He should be able to organise guns." 

Sebastian nodded when a yawn escaped him and Jim turned his head to frown at him. 

"Sorry." 

"Get some food." 

"Alright. Calling Guillaume first though." When Jim didn't react Sebastian just left the bedroom, hands buried in his pockets, and picked up his mobile from the carpet. He checked the wet spot with his toe. It slowly started to dry. _At least._ He collapsed on the sofa and dialled Guillaume's number. The Frenchman answered after the second ring. 

"Sebastian?" 

"Listen, I’ll need some guns tomorrow. In Marseille." 

"Marseille? Okay, I see what I can do." 

"Thanks. Are you done with Arnaud?" 

"Not yet." 

"Alright. Call or text me when you know about the guns." 

"Sure. Au revoir, Sebastian." 

"Au revoir." 

Sebastian leaned back and closed his eyes. With two fingers he carefully examined his head, pressing slightly against his temple. He sighed. The last couple of days started taking a toll on him. Not that he wasn’t used to busy days but normally he could always fall back on at least half a dozen of Jim’s minions who were more than eager to impress the boss. He’d been there to protect Jim, to make sure things ran smoothly and to take care of the jobs Jim wouldn’t entrust anybody else with. Now it was just him, maybe with a little help from people like Guillaume, people Sebastian didn’t even know where they were coming from. Once he had kept actual files of every single person involved - Jim had destroyed them, but Sebastian assumed he had hidden some copies somewhere. Not that they needed them. Jim always knew what he was doing. But Sebastian liked to have an overview, especially with a boss like Jim who never shared any details of his plans.

As he thought about the past and how things had changed he slowly started dozing off, slipping further and further into the silence. His limbs felt heavy. He couldn't move anymore and a deep calmness washed over his body, over his mind, letting the soft darkness filling him. 

 

"Wake up, Seb", a voice cooed close to his ear and Sebastian woke up immediately, startled, raising his head a little just to jerk back when he noticed the blade of a knife dancing only an inch above his eyeball. Sebastian stared at the glaring metal. He barely dared to breathe. Jim let the knife sink until the tip touched Sebastian's lashes. 

"Jim", he whispered and slowly raised his hand just to freeze when the pressure on his lid increased. 

"Did I say ' _Go take a nap_ '?" 

"No, boss." 

"And...?" 

"I'm sorry, boss. It won't happen again." 

Jim folded the knife together and slid it into Sebastian's pocket, his mouth hovering directly over Sebastian's face. 

" _I hope so_. Now go and get us some food." 

Jim's face disappeared and Sebastian exhaled, his tense muscles only slowly relaxing. He rubbed his face. His heart was hammering against his chest and he could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

"I said now!", Jim yelled and Sebastian jumped. 

 

The morning sun was hiding behind thick clouds. Sebastian shivered, buried his hands in his pockets and thought about his scarf which was still somewhere in one of the bags up in the apartment. He walked to the nearest _boulangerie pâtisserie_ and bought some rolls and _pains au chocolat_  when his phone rang. It was Guillaume telling him that the job was done and that he had organised guns for the next day. Sebastian thanked him and ended the call. On his way back he decided to make a short detour and visit the Notre-Dame de Reims, a typical French Gothic cathedral, just to take a breath.

God had never played any role in his life. He didn't consider himself an atheist - he simply didn't care, and he definitely didn’t care enough to put a label on himself. The question about the existence of a higher power didn't affect his daily life and if there actually _was_  a God, he wouldn't approve of Sebastian's chosen lifestyle anyway. But churches, especially the huge ones, always had a certain impact on him, somehow soothing, relaxing. He liked the air, the acoustics, the smell, the architecture, the atmosphere.  And somehow they always reminded him of the inner peace he had found in the woods, laying on his belly, peeking through the broken scope of his grandfather's rifle, waiting for a target that would never appear - and this feeling had nothing to do with God.

With his back against the cool stone he watched a bunch of elderly women lighting candles in the corner and thought about Arnaud and Bouchon. Something felt wrong with the story Jim had told him. Nothing big, just as if he was missing a piece of the puzzle. There had to be some kind of bigger picture that he couldn’t grasp just yet.

Sebastian sighed. Agonising over something he would never know for sure was pointless. Jim already told him more than he used to do - it had all started with names on a napkin and nowadays he at least knew _why_ he was killing a man. 

 

He walked back to the apartment, hoping that Jim had calmed down in the meantime, but the slightly narrowed eyebrows and the mocking twitch of the corner of Jim’s mouth indicated the opposite.

"Did you light a candle for me?" 

Sebastian put the bag with their breakfast on the counter, slow and steady movements, before he turned around to face Jim. How could he know about his church visit? Or was it nothing but a lucky guess? Did he deduce it? But Jim wasn't Sherlock Holmes, Jim couldn't know that the dust on his back could only be found in that specific corner in that specific church - could he? Sebastian pushed his thoughts aside. 

"What?", he asked instead, a brilliant feat of eloquence. Jim chuckled and leaned back against the cushions.

"Oh, don't be stupid, Moran. I know _everything_  about you." 

Sebastian rubbed his face to escape Jim's superior smile for a second. 

"Do you?", he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jim straightened himself, his expression going blank. 

" _Papa was a bad, bad man. Mama was a whore_ ", he said slowly, emphasising every syllable, and sneered at him. Sebastian clenched his teeth. Anger rumbled through his guts. This was too much. Jim had overstepped a line - the only line - and he knew, he knew _exactly_ what he was doing, trying to make Sebastian snap, trying to start a fight Sebastian would definitely lose. Sebastian had to swallow it down, no matter how much he wished to wipe that smirk off Jim's face right now. 

"Did I hurt your feelings?" 

Sebastian didn't answer. He put the food on a plate and placed it in front of Jim. Jim chuckled and grabbed Sebastian's wrist. Sebastian stilled.

"Look at me, Moran." 

Sebastian knew he had no real choice. He obeyed. Jim's eyes seemed unnaturally huge and round. _Puppy eyes_. For Sebastian, this was one of Jim’s more terrifying expressions. _Grotesque._ The grip around his wrist tightened. 

“There is _nothing_ I don’t know about you.“ 

"Yes, boss." 

Jim nodded and released Sebastian's hand. Sebastian immediately went upstairs to change. He needed to run to get rid of the anger that was still lurking around in his guts. With Jim in such a mood he had to be as calm as possible and he didn’t exactly feel _calm_ right now.

Jim observed him with an amused smile as he tied the laces of his trainers and even waved as Sebastian opened the door.  

 

And Sebastian ran. He ran until every inch of his body hurt, numbing the anger inside him. His legs were on fire, trembling when he finally reached the apartment. It took him several attempts to unlock the door, his fingers frozen and shaking, unable to hold the keys. Sweat dripped from his face and ran into his eyes. He stumbled into the flat, still trying to catch his breath, and pulled his soaked hoodie over his head.

Jim was still on the sofa, laying on his belly, one hand hanging over the edge, sleeping. His gown had slipped out of place and covered nothing but his shoulders. And again, with his lips slightly parted and the relaxed expression on his face, Jim seemed so young and vulnerable. Sebastian sighed. _Sentiment_. This was insane. Nobody in his senses would stay with Jim, let alone simply accept his behaviour. And nobody in his senses would feel this deep urge to _protect_ him. But no matter what Jim was doing to him - it was _Jim._ And Jim would never find anybody else than him, who genuinely _liked_ him. And if Sebastian was honest with himself Jim was the best thing that had happened to him. He’d still be lurking around in shady pubs, desperately trying to be drunk by noon just to numb the feeling of futility.

Sebastian approached the sofa and crouched down, one hand gently stroking over Jim's naked back. His skin was cool, far too cool for Sebastian's liking. 

"Jim." 

Jim groaned. 

"Sod off." 

Sebastian cupped the back of Jim's head, feeling the scar underneath his fingertips. 

"Jim, go to bed." 

"You smell." Jim frowned at him. Sebastian rolled his eyes. " _Seb._ " 

"I'm just saying, Jim." He ruffled Jim's hair one last time before he got up. Jim was right, he did smell. He definitely needed a shower. 

 

In the evening Sebastian explained Guillaume the different effects of Jim's medication and the basic dos and don'ts. He didn't want to come back and find Guillaume gutted in the living room - something that had happened before. Sebastian had only been gone for two days but when he came back to their house in Kensington all three bodyguards were sitting on the sofa, one next to the other, throats slitted, Jim sprawled over a chair in the corner of the same room. Sebastian had been the one cleaning the whole mess and he wasn't particularly eager to do that again. So he instructed Guillaume to shut his mouth, follow any order and be basically invisible when not needed. 

 

Jim had somehow managed to get a table at _Le Millenaire_ , a more or less expensive restaurant in the centre of Reims, on short notice. Sebastian dismissed Guillaume for the night, changed into some fancy clothes and joined Jim who was already waiting by the door. Together they walked through the cold, past the cathedral and about a dozen little cafés and bars until they reached _Le Millenaire_ , a modern charcoal entry surrounded by the facade of a typical old French house. It wasn't as pretty from the inside as Sebastian had expected, one large room stuffed with identical round tables, muted colours and basically no decoration. Sebastian didn't mind as long as the food was good. A young waiter brought them to their table and explained something in fast French. Jim nodded and answered just as quick.

Their menu was served with corresponding wines and it was simply delicious. They didn't talk much and their topics stayed superficial but Sebastian noticed that Jim was a lot calmer and relaxed after his nap. It was a few minutes after ten when they left the restaurant, and with a full stomach and maybe half a glass of wine too much Sebastian could hardly keep his eyes open. He was _so tired_. And a bit tipsy, too.

The cold air outside hit them like a wall. Sebastian glanced at Jim in his far too thin woollen overcoat - why hadn't he taken a warmer coat from the store room? - and immediately noticed his slight shivering. Another sign that Jim wasn't back to normal health yet. Sebastian shrugged out of his parka. 

"Here." 

Jim furrowed his brow. Sebastian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

"My job is to take care of you, so... please." He pressed the jacket against Jim's chest until Jim finally took it and put it on over his overcoat. Sebastian rolled his shirt sleeves back down and slid his hands in his pockets. He was probably far too nice to Jim. Sebastian withdrew the word  _probably_  in his thoughts and replaced it with _definitely_. Jim had kicked his balls, yelled at him, threatened him with a knife, insulted his family - all in one day. And here he was, giving the man his incredibly warm and comfy parka. 

"Your job is not to take care of me. Your job is to do as I tell you." 

Sebastian chuckled. 

"Then what do you want me to do?" 

"Shut up." 

Sebastian chuckled again. _Yes,_ that last glass of wine had been too much. He shook his head. 

"Glad to be serving your amusement, Seb." 

As long as Jim called him _Seb_  he knew he wasn't treading on thin ice, so he decided to maintain the conversation.

"You'll remember why you have me when I'm gone." 

"I'll remember why I should have gotten rid off you after you failed to kill Hemsley." 

Hemsley, one of the two only jobs Sebastian had ever screwed up. Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

"At least Guillaume won't dare to roll his eyes on me." Jim shook his head. 

"Because you pay him not to." 

"I don't pay him, I spare his life." 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows but when he noticed Jim's grin he realised that he was joking. _Genuinely joking Jim_ \- another rare aspect of Jim that hadn't really shown since the whole Sherlock Holmes story had begun. 

"Yeah, Jim, you’re basically the embodiment of generousity." 

"I know I am. That's why I’m still keeping you around." 

Sebastian laughed and draped one arm around Jim's shoulders to pull him closer. Warmth seeped through Sebastian's shirt where their bodies met. He dropped his arm before Jim could frown at him but their bodies kept touching with every step, the friction warming Sebastian even more. Nevertheless he was freezing when they finally reached their apartment and he was glad when he closed the door behind him. Still shivering he toed off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt on his way up the stairs. He fetched his softest hoodie from one of the bags, collapsed on the bed and started rubbing his frozen face as Jim entered the room.

"I hope it's warmer in Marseille." 

Jim unbuttoned his shirt sleeves before he joined Sebastian. 

"Not at this time of the year." 

"Damn." 


	10. Chapter 9 - Ordinary People

Chapter 9

**ORDINARY PEOPLE**

  
  
The next morning came far too early. Sebastian pressed the snooze button once too often, so when he finally jumped out of bed he already had to skip the shower in order to have enough time to shave. Parts of his bruises were finally fading, only directly around the wound his skin was still shining in various colours but he could cover most of it with his hair.  He put on some clothes and finished packing his bag, moving as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t wake Jim. A glance at his mobile let him relax a bit. 5:53. Still enough time to get some food on his way to the station.  
  
"Did you order a rifle?" Jim's voice was rough from sleep. Sebastian turned to face him and smiled as he saw him blinking into the light, his hair pointing in all directions.  He was simply _adorable_.  
  
“Yeah.“  
  
"Don't. I need you to deliver a message before you shoot him."   
  
Sebastian furrowed his brow. He was a trained sniper, not a face to face assassin.   
  
"I'm a sniper."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"And you want _me_ to walk past several security arrangements and bodyguards to hold a gun to Bouchon's face so I can shoot him after delivering a message?"   
  
Jim rolled on his back and draped one arm over his eyes.   
  
"Are you done stating the obvious?"   
  
"What if I call before I shoot him?"   
  
Jim took a peek at him, his arm lifted only a bit.  
  
"For fuck's sake, I don't care, write him a letter if you want to." He sat up, his usual frown on his face. "Actually, no. Don't write it down. That’d be bloody stupid.“  
  
Jim was obviously not fully awake yet. If he weren’t in a hurry, Sebastian would probably try to take advantage of it. But he _was_ in a hurry, as he noticed after glancing at his mobile again.He needed to leave _now_ if he still wanted to fetch some food.   
  
„All right Jim, what's the message?"   
  
"Just tell him I'm alive. But make it sound like me, not just a boring 'Jim's alive'."   
  
Sebastian bid farewell to his breakfast.   
  
“But…“  
  
“But _what_?“  
  
Sebastian decided not to tell Jim what exactly he thought about this. It was nothing but an unnecessary risk but if Jim wanted him to take it, he would.  
  
“I thought Bouchon already knew you’re alive.“  
  
Jim covered his face with his hands and sighed.   
  
"Bouchon knows that _someone_  is after him. Arnaud might have sold my weapons but he wouldn't have dared to say my name."   
  
Sebastian shrugged. He was running out of time and in the end all those details didn't matter. If Jim wanted him to deliver a message he would go and deliver a message. He fetched the bag and bend over to lean his forehead against Jim's. And Jim felt so warm and soft and he smelled so distinctively like _him_ that it was hard for Sebastian to resist the urge to close the distance between them and simply kiss him. Instead he just gave him a little nudge.  
  
"Don't kill Guillaume."   
  
Jim chuckled and pushed him away. 

 

  
Sebastian made it to the train just in time. A group of girls shared the compartment with him, all chatting in an incredibly fast pace. Sebastian placed the bag and his leather jacket on the overhead rack above his seat. One of the girls tried to do the same, but she was so short she could hardly reach the rack and also seemed to struggle with the weight of her luggage. Sebastian grabbed her bag and stored it away.  
  
The girl smiled at him.   
  
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur."   
  
Sebastian returned the smile.   
  
"You're welcome."   
  
He sat down and looked out of the window, staring at the landscape flashing by as the train accelerated. The constant chatter and laughter blended into one distant noise, numbing his thoughts and he slowly dozed off with Jim's face in his mind, the way his eyes had glinted on their way back from the restaurant, the way he had wrapped his arms around Sebastian's chest during the night, his head resting on Sebastian's shoulder. And then Bouchon popped up in his mind, wearing Brad Pitt’s bathrobe from Fight Club - and Sebastian caught himself wondering how exactly Bouchon managed to get hold of that - and took Sebastian’s gun away from him, throwing it into a gigantic bathtub full of blood. Sebastian tried to leap forward when something - someone - grabbed his wrists, holding him back and he turned around to face Jim and Jim was grinning and Sebastian could hear a gun cocking and he wanted to warn Jim, wanted to protect him with his body, but the bullet - he could hear it flying through the blood filled air - went right through him and hit Jim’s face, ripping his skin apart, shattering his bones, his skull.  
  
Sebastian startled when two girls suddenly collapsed on the seats directly across from him. One of them was the girl from the rack.   
  
"Hi", they said and the second girl, a tall and skinny blonde, giggled. Sebastian estimated their age at around 20.   
  
"Hello", he answered cautiously.   
  
"I'm Cécile", the smaller girl introduced, "and that's Hélène." The blonde waved at him.   
  
"I'm John."   
  
"Where are you from, John?"   
  
"London." Sebastian settled for the easiest answer.   
  
"Trop cool." Cécile beamed at him. "Are you visiting your girlfriend?"   
  
 _No, I'm about to murder your presidential candidate_ , he thought and pressed his lips together to keep himself from chuckling, shaking his head instead.  
  
"No girlfriend."   
  
"Dommage!" Cécile leaned forward, revealing her ample breasts to him, and placed one hand on his thigh.   
  
Sebastian furrowed his brow. How did that always happen to _him_? Did he look so desperate? He knew he wasn’t the most attractive man in the universe but Liam had once pointed out that he had some sort of _dangerous vibe_ that seemed to attract a certain type of women. Although Sebastian wouldn’t necessarily label Liam as an expert in such matters. Suddenly a familiar rhythm sounded, followed by the distinct voice of Joe Strummer. _When they kick at your front door how you gonna come? With your hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun?_ Only when he noticed the light vibrations against his leg Sebastian realised it was his own mobile.   
  
"Oh, sorry", he said and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The Clash had already started with the second verse when he finally picked up. When did Jim always find the time to change his ringtone?  
Cécile sighed and sat back, nevertheless leaving her hand on his thigh.   
  
"Interesting choice", Sebastian greeted Jim and smirked.  
  
"You have a room at the Sofitel Marseille Vieux Port. Boulevard Charles Livon 36."   
  
"Can you text me that? Too much French."   
  
Jim scoffed.   
  
"You knew that already, so why are you calling?  
  
"Guillaume doesn't know how to make tea."   
  
This was definitely not what Sebastian had expected. He bursted into laughter. Jim groaned.   
  
“I told you you would see how lucky you are to have me.“  
  
“Sod off.“  
  
“All right. I’ll text Guillaume how to do it properly."   
  
Jim hang up on him without another word. Sebastian slightly shook his head and texted Guillaume a short instruction on how to make proper tea for Jim. The trick was to get the right brand in the first place. Suddenly something warm started wandering up his thigh and Sebastian startled. He had completely forgotten about Cécile and her crude approach. When she realised his attention a warm smile appeared on her face. Sebastian vaguely remembered the cliché of the overly sexual French - and from what he was experiencing right now, that cliché seemed to be quite accurate.   
  
"Ben...", Cécile started and launched herself on the seat next to Sebastian, her body extremely close to his, “I can show you Paris.“ Her hand was on his thigh again, higher this time, only inches away from his crotch. The blonde, Hélène, was now busy staring at her mobile. Now that Cécile was so close to him he could smell a distant trace of alcohol in her breath. Must have been a rather long night. But who partied until the morning hours on a Wednesday?  _Students_ , he answered the question himself.  
  
"Sorry, Cécile. I'm gay."   
  
The expression on her face was priceless. She blinked at him in surprise, her hand slowly slipping off his leg. But then she rallied and the warm smile returned.  
  
"Oooooh", she cooed, "You have a boyfriend?"   
  
An incoming text message saved him from answering. He checked his mobile.   
  
 _\- Sofitel Marseille Vieux Port, Boulevard Charles Livon 36 -_  
 _  
\- Thanks. Hope your tea is acceptable. BTW was just offered sex from a girl who could be my daughter. -_  
 _  
_Sebastian pressed the send button and instantly regretted his decision to add the last part. Not that he wasn’t interested in Jim’s response but he somehow doubted it had been a good decision to tell him. He sighed and put his mobile aside.  
  
Cécile was leaning away from him now, her legs still touching his, but her whole attitude seemed different. Not sexual She had started a conversation with Hélène and both girls gesticulated wildly. Sebastian couldn't understand a single word but he was sure that it was at least partially about him.   
  
He didn't receive an answer from Jim. Cécile kept asking questions and he somehow managed to avoid the ones he didn't want to answer, leading to a surprisingly entertaining conversation. He learned that Hélène didn't speak a single word English - or was at least too shy to try - and that it was indeed not particularly frowned upon to have casual sex with strangers. When the train stopped at the airport Sebastian put on his leather jacket, grabbed his bag and kissed the girls goodbye - exactly the way Cécile had explained him earlier, four kisses, right cheek, left cheek and again, because apparently that's how you did it in Paris.   


 

Sebastian checked in and finally found some time to have breakfast at one of the airport restaurants. While eating his baguette he googled a nice little restaurant close to his hotel - but not too close to make it obvious where he was staying. As much as he enjoyed Liam's company, he really didn't want him to be in the same hotel. After he made his decision he texted Liam the address and then tried to call Jim twice, but Jim didn’t pick up, so Sebastian texted him instead.  
  
 _\- I refused. -_  
 _  
_After staring at these two words for more than two minutes he sighed and typed a second message.  
  
 _\- Too much boobs and not enough insanity. -_  
 _  
_And then, because Jim was too far away to punish him for being cheeky anyway, he added:  
  
 _\- Don't kill Guillaume. -_  
 _  
_Sebastian saw the three little dots in the left bottom corner appearing and disappearing but Jim didn't answer. He smirked as he switched his mobile into airplane mode and put it back into his pocket.  


 

He left the plane around quarter to eleven and went straight to the first cab in front of the airport. The cabbie was a fast driver and made it to the hotel in under twenty-five minutes. Sebastian gave a generous tip, mostly because it was Jim's money and he knew Jim didn't care.   
  
The hotel was stunning. Sebastian couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in pleasant surprise as he entered the lobby and walked towards the reception. A young man in a suit welcomed him with a friendly smile and an refreshingly light accent.   
  
"Hello", Sebastian said, "I have an reservation..."   
  
The man nodded but his smile faded into something more apologetic.   
  
"I'm very sorry, Sir, but our rooms are not available until three. It is of course possible to check in now."   
  
Sebastian grimaced. He pulled his wallet out his backpack and handed the man his passport.   
  
"Thank you, Mr Wilkers."   
  
The man turned towards his computer. His brow furrowed. He glanced at Sebastian, then back at the screen before he cleared his throat and put the passport on the counter.   
  
"Well, Mr Wilkers, it seems like your room is already prepared. One superior room with kingsize bed, 35 m², balcony with a view of the port, including wifi, breakfast and free entry to our pool, sauna, and fitness areas. We have one of the best restaurants in Marseille in our hotel and of course there is also a 24 hours room service if you prefer dining in your room. Do you require any help with your luggage, Sir?"   
  
"No, thank you. I'm travelling light."   
  
„All right, Sir. Here's your room card, if you have any questions the reception is available 24/7."   
  
Sebastian took the card and his passport, thanked the young man and headed over to the elevators. He was still wondering how Jim had managed to make them finish his room four hours before the official check-in time when he opened the door with his card. The room itself was as impressive as the lobby. Modern and extremely stylish, beige and brown with a few, perfectly placed eye-catchers in a light blue. Nothing Jim would enjoy as Jim preferred black and white and glass and steel with as little furniture and decoration as possible but it definitely was to Sebastian's liking. He placed the bag on the bed.   
  
Sebastian decided to take a quick shower before meeting with Liam. The bathroom was huge, equipped with a shower and a separate bathtub big enough for two. He enjoyed the steaming hot water on his skin. One day he would manage to get Jim into the shower with him and he would pin him against the cool tiles to watch him shiver at the sensation. Sebastian propped one arm against the wall, the water running over the back of his head down his spine. His free hand trailed down his chest, drawing out a soft moan when he started alleviating the rising pressure. Pictures of Jim kneeling in front of him appeared, Jim's hands on his body, Jim's mouth, Jim on top of him, _Jim._  


 

At three past one Sebastian entered the chosen restaurant, a pretty little place with view of the port. Liam was sitting with his back to the window, his nose buried in the menu card. He hadn't changed since the last time they had met - broad, muscular frame, tanned skin, short army haircut. Liam was a walking army cliché. Sebastian approached him with an honest smile on his face. They shook hands, firm grip meeting firm grip.   
  
"Nice bruises, Colonel." Liam grinned. "They suit you. Make you look more dangerous."   
  
Sebastian snorted and sat down.   
  
“Important things first. Got my money?"   
  
"You want it cash or can I write out a cheque?"   
  
"Covered?"   
  
"Of course."   
  
Sebastian picked up the menu card and scanned the dishes. _French._ Every single word was French. He sighed and put the card down. Liam smirked at him.   
  
"You already decided?"   
  
"Didn't you learn French in school?"   
  
"I'm _forty,_ that was more than twenty years ago.I could probably still insult somebody's mother but that's about it", Liam answered and laughed.  
  
One of the waiters approached their table and greeted them in French. Liam explained their inability to speak French - in French - and the waiter translated the menu for them. They both settled for the steak. As the waiter disappeared Liam leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms in front of the chest.   
  
"I hope you know you incurred the bride's _wrath_  by ordering me here."   
  
Sebastian chuckled.   
  
"Come on, I know Sila forgives me anything."   
  
"Yeah, she does. She's probably grateful for getting me out of the way. According to her I'm only about to ruin her preparations anyway."   
  
"Did you threaten to murder the wedding planner?"   
  
"Oh, you have no idea. She's such a bitch." Liam rubbed his forehead. His hairline had started receding and Sebastian could spot several grey hair. The wrinkles by his eyes increased when he smiled. Sebastian thought about the day they had met, twenty years ago, both of them excited and full of expectations and still completely innocent. The only _bad_ thing Sebastian had done by then was to point a broken rifle at birds. Their innocence had been the first thing to disappear.   
  
"I don't even know why we need a wedding planner."   
  
"Because if you'd plan the whole reception there'd be no music, no decoration, no games... You would probably even forget to invite the guests!" Sebastian laughed. "The food would be great, though.“    
  
Liam snorted and nodded.   
  
"I'm just prioritising."   
  
"Sila really wants to marry you?"   
  
"I have no idea why but it seems like she does, yeah."   
  
The waiter brought their drinks, interrupting the conversation. Sebastian leaned back and relaxed. Just a normal conversation. It was indeed something he missed from time to time. Jim seemed not to be capable of having standard human conversations. Everything always had to mean something and most of the time more than one thing. Liam was just another bloke, maybe even something like a friend. The closest thing to a friend Sebastian had. And he could remember - or _not remember -_  several times they had drunken themselves into oblivion after his discharge, two lost army brothers tossed back into the real world, a world they didn't really belong and where they didn't know what to do with their dubious talents and non-existing lives. Until Liam had met Sila, the young and beautiful bartender who somehow fell for the small man with the too broad shoulders and lopsided smile, who could never behave and always left last. Liam had stopped drinking, Sebastian had decided to drink on his own. Shady job after shady job after shady job until _Jim._  
 _  
_"Alright Seb. What's this all about?"  
  
Sebastian pushed his thoughts aside and focused on Liam. His expression was more serious now, his jaw tightened slightly. Sebastian pulled out his mobile and opened André Bouchon's wikipedia page.   
  
"It's about him", he said and handed Liam the phone. Liam raised his eyebrows as he glanced at the screen. After reading the first few lines he whistled through his teeth.   
  
"Tough one. May I ask who we're doing this for?"   
  
Sebastian shook his head.   
  
"None of your concern."   
  
Liam shrugged. He would help anyway, Sebastian knew that, because Liam didn't really care who was in charge as long as the money was payed.   
  
"I have three addresses we need to check. The problem is not to find out where he was or where he is but where he _will be_. We won't be able to get to him if we're not already there."   
  
"Okay... I hope it's not coming down to overhearing conversations. We'd be bloody scuppered with our limited language skills."   
  
The waiter interrupted their laughter and they changed the subject to something lighter during their meal - the wedding, again - and later just split the work between the two of them. Sebastian had already decided to take the evening off and visit one of the countless bars along the port, just to enjoy some basic human interactions, something he hadn't done since _before_ the whole Sherlock Holmes story. Those lonesome nights in some shady pubs in the first few weeks after Jim's _death_  didn't count.   


 

Sebastian fetched his now empty bag from the hotel and went to meet Guillaume's contact at three at the arranged meeting point. When he came around the corner he nearly bumped into a black dressed girl with impressively long black curls. He jerked back and mumbled an apology. Was he at the right spot? He furrowed his brow and glanced around. He was already a few minutes too late. Where was -   
  
"Sébastien?" The girl looked at him with a crooked smile and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. "Cigarette?"   
  
Sebastian shook his head. He was surprised. Not that he wasn't used to women in his kind of business but this girl seemed like she was too young to be in _any_ kind of business. She just shrugged and put a cigarette between her lips.   
  
"So... you got something for me?"   
  
"Oui", she said and kicked against a backpack he hadn't noticed before. The smell of the cigarette entered his nose. It was still _delicious_. He had smoked for nearly two decades but had stopped eventually when a formerly befriended sniper had been caught because of some stupid stubs. At least that was the official reason. Jim's aversion for cold cigarette smoke had had - _of course_ \- nothing to do with it.   
  
Sebastian tried to pick up the backpack but the girl stopped him with her free hand.   
  
"Non", she said, "Mine."   
  
Sebastian went down on his knees to open her backpack and found two Walther PPK .380 ACP, sound suppressors, and enough ammunition for a rampage. He quickly checked the guns before he slid one into the shoulder holster he had brought with him, putting the second one into his own bag, along with the ammu. He was only slightly disappointed about the lack of a rifle. It was so much safer and easier to make a long range shot than to burst into a room full of bodyguards with nothing but a tiny gun in his hands.   
  
When he got back on his feet the girl pinched one finger in his chest and grinned.   
  
"James Bond", she said and pinched him again. Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle.   
  
"Not really", he answered. The girl shrugged and blew a mouth full of smoke into his face. He inhaled and immediately hated himself for doing so.   
  
"Au revoir, Sébastien." She disappeared around the corner, her backpack casually thrown over one shoulder. Sebastian stared after her. _French._


	11. Chapter 10 - Nothing's Going To Prevent Them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late... what a week. TFW you realise your whole plot doesn't make sense one day before you want to upload the first part. I seriously prefer dialogues.

Chapter 10  
 **NOTHING'S GOING TO PREVENT THEM...**

 

Sebastian tied his scarf tighter around his neck as he left the hotel lobby. The first address had turned out to be a specific mooring down at the Old Port, just a few minutes away from his hotel. Nowadays the Old Port served mainly as a visitor attraction and yacht harbour, the workers and ships had moved up north to the Marseille-Fos Port, ranging from the _Étang de Berre_ to  _Fos-sur-Mer_ , a small town fifty kilometres away from Marseille. 

Despite the fresh temperatures the Old Port was fairly crowded, students and stereotypical tourists roaming along the stripe of bars and restaurants. It was a beautiful setting and Sebastian could definitely imagine spending a few days here in the summer. Not that he’d ever go on holidays. And he would probably prefer the beach. Somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe, on a small lonely island that could only be reached by boat, far away from any kind of civilisation. Sebastian tried to picture himself laying underneath a palm tree but it was incredibly difficult to imagine. For him there was no place like London. No paradise in the world was as beautiful to him as London, because London was home and he had spent the first two decades of his life craving a _home,_ making it more precious than anything else. And right now, home was too far away.

 

As Sebastian approached the bigger yachts the people became more dressed up and the tourist uniform slowly disappeared, making place for dress shoes and overcoats and neat evening dresses. There weren’t many people around, not on a Wednesday evening, but Sebastian was still glad that he had bought some finer clothes in Reims.

When he found the right mooring he was sincerely astonished. The yacht was gigantic. _Héloise_ was written on the side in thick black italic letters. Sebastian estimated the length at about forty meters, the width at around ten. There were two men standing on the topmost deck, the third. One of the men was dressed in denim and a black down jacket, whereas the other one was wearing a suit, the top three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, his fringe waving as he gesticulated wildly, his piercing voice ringing in Sebastian’s ears. They seemed to have a rather one-sided argument but, of course, Sebastian couldn’t understand a word. He considered calling Guillaume to have him translate but before he could even pull out his phone the two men disappeared from the deck. Sebastian bit his bottom lip and took a few steps back, scanning the rest of the yacht, when a woman stepped on the first deck and put one hand on the railing, holding a glass of champagne in the other one. Her face was fairly young but her posh clothes made her seem at least a decade older. She was followed by the man in the suit who was still busy gesticulating although he was lowering his voice now. Sebastian wondered what all of this was about and he was so busy following the events in front of him that he nearly jumped when someone stepped on the jetty next to him. He turned around and saw the man with the black down jacket, his face fierce. The man didn’t pay him any attention. Sebastian made a few quick steps in his direction. 

“Excuse me…“, he said and put a smile on his face when the man stopped walking and turned around to face him. 

“Salut.“

“I just saw you on that yacht… I’m considering buying a similar model and I was wondering if you could tell me something about this one.“

The man stared at him for a second before he shook his head.

“I make party. Not more.“

_Interesting_ , Sebastian thought. A posh party on a fancy yacht was exactly the kind of event Sebastian was expecting Bouchon to attend.

“Oh, okay. Thank you anyway.“

The man nodded and left. Sebastian looked back at the yacht but the other two were nowhere to be seen, so he decided to call it a day and go back to the hotel to have dinner and get changed for the night with Liam.

 

Liam was waiting for him in front of the bar, a self-confident smile on his lips. 

“ _Colonel_ “, he greeted him and Sebastian rolled his eyes. Not that he was bothered by his old rank, no, but Liam always managed to say it with this distinctive mocking undertone. 

“Sod off.“ 

Liam’s smile widened even more until he looked like a really happy shark. 

“You wouldn’t want that. Not until I told you what I found out.“ 

Sebastian opened the door and waited until Liam passed him. 

“Let’s get a drink first.“ 

This was his _evening off_ and he was planning on getting pissed tonight. Liam was an excellent drinking buddy - or hadbeen, back in the days when they got drunk every single night.

“I’ll get us some beer.“ 

Sebastian nodded and took place at an empty table in the rearmost corner while Liam talked to the bartender.

“Seb, do you have any idea if French beer is actually drinkable?“, Liam asked as he placed two full glasses on the table. Sebastian shrugged. 

“It’s probably better than American beer.“ 

Liam snorted.

“That’s not really an achievement.“ He took a sip. “It’s okay, I guess. Had worse. So, about our friend… One of the addresses turned out to be an art gallery. Not much I could find out there, there’s no special exhibition or anything. But then I went to the second address, a pretty historic house belonging to G. Robineau. Gerard Robineau. I googled him, he’s some sort of minister. The name, Robineau, rang a bell, though. I had heard it once before today. And you know where? Exactly, at the art gallery. Turns out the guy who runs it is actually G. Robineau Junior.“

Sebastian bet both his arms that the yacht he had visited earlier belonged to the exact same family.

“I then went back to the gallery and asked about any upcoming events. Saturday evening Robineau Junior will have a some sort of charity gala or reception or whatever. It’s basically free entry as long as you donate.“

“But why should a guy who’s hiding show up at a charity event where he can’t control who’s at it?“

“Because he’s a politician who wants to be elected? Betting my arse there’ll be press. He shows up, donates, smiles for the camera, and the people will love him. You were the one who told me it’s not about knowing where he was but where he will be.“

Sebastian drank half his beer while thinking about what Liam had just told him. Robineau’s house, his son’s art gallery and a yacht that was certainly belonging to the same family. He wondered if the party on the yacht was connected to the charity event. It was likely. An _after show party_ for the most generous donators and the politicians who wanted to have a second drink away from the prying eyes of the journalists.

“You going to tell me why we’re doing this?“, Liam interrupted Sebastian’s thoughts. Sebastian looked up from his glass and sighed.

“Look, Seb, I couldn’t care less about who I’m working for as long as you’re the one asking. But first Holmes and now this, all of the sudden? Last time I checked you were trying to drink yourself into oblivion and now you’re back on track. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, just wondering.“

“I’m trying to move on.“ He had honestly been trying to move on when Jim had returned from the dead. Because all the alcohol had never been particularly helpful.

Liam shook his head in disbelief.

“Moriarty of all people? Seriously? Seb, he was hell of a prick.“

Sebastian furrowed his brow. He felt like he had somehow lost the thread of the conversation.

“What are you talking about?“

“I’m talking about you being head over heels in love with Moriarty.“

His stomach dropped and Sebastian spilled his beer all over his sleeve.

“I’m not…“, he began but was interrupted by Liam’s snort. There was nothing he could say to that anyway. He wasn’t _what_? In love with Jim? Gay? Interested in this kind of talk?

“You’re what? Not gay? Come on, Seb, I know men can get desperate in the army but you had reached a whole new level of desperation.“

Sebastian blushed. And instantly hated himself for it. His early twenties had been quite an adventure, especially a sexual one. But he had assumed that all of his antics had happened behind closed doors, away from anybody’s prying eyes.   
“How do you know about that?“

Liam bursted into laughter.

“Did you really think you hid it so well that nobody caught you for years? No, that was me covering for you, moron.“   
“Oh.“ It made sense. Sebastian felt like an idiot for not noticing how smooth everything always went - for nearly twenty years. “But why did you never say anything?“

“At first I didn’t want to embarrass you, then I though you knew anyway and in the end I didn’t really care anymore.“   
Sebastian gulped down what little was left of his beer.

“I need more. You too?“

Liam nodded in response, emptied his glass and handed it over to Sebastian who went to the bar and ordered two new beverages. As he watched the bartender refilling their glasses he decided to get a couple of shots, too. He hadn’t blushed since - well, he couldn’t even remember the last time. This was calling for more alcohol. Images of young recruits flashed through his mind, kneeling naked in front of him, their hands on his hips, his fingers buried into their hair. Maps, plans, and important files dropping to the floor as he threw the body in front of him on the table, jamming himself into them, his palm covering their mouth to stifle any noises, nothing but the repetitive pounding, flesh against flesh, quick and dirty and emotionless.

Sebastian drank two shots before he returned to the table. Liam observed him with an amused smirk.

“So… about Moriarty…“

“Shut up, Liam.“

“Oh, _Colonel_.“

Sebastian frowned at Liam before he turned his attention to his second beer. He wasn’t ashamed of what he had done back then but he had always avoided talking about himself. Liam had always been happy to tell him about his own love life, about Sila and his kid, the jobs he was doing. Sebastian had never kept his sexuality a secret but he wasn’t used to it being the matter of discussion.

Liam laughed and took one of the shots from the tray Sebastian had brought with him and held it out to him.   
“I couldn’t care less, Seb, honestly. Just relax and drink.“

  
  
They drank their shots, and then another one, and another one. When Sebastian tried to stand up to go and relieve himself he nearly fell over his own chair. Liam commented the incident with a tipsy giggle.

“If you fall try to fall on your left. Then you’ll have matching bruises!“

“Ha-ha.“

Sebastian managed to reach the toilet without hurting himself or endangering the life of others and was just about to make his way back to the table when his phone started ringing. It took him longer than he liked to admit to pull it out of his pocket. _Jim_. He waved the phone at Liam to signalise him that he had to take this call and left the bar, pressing the mobile against his ear.

“Hello?“ He tried to sound sober but he was probably failing miserably. The huff at the other end of the line underlined his assumption.

“Are you drunk, Moran?“

“Me? No. Just, maybe, you know.“ He groaned and congratulated himself on his stunning eloquence. “We can’t do anything until Saturday. Drinking sounded reasonable.“

“Call me when the job is done.“

“I will.“ He hesitated for a second. “Jim?“ He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. But it was cold and he was drunk and he couldn’t stop picturing Jim as his plus one at Liam’s wedding. It was ridiculous, he would probably not even attend it himself, but the image stuck.

“Seb?“

“What are you doing?“

Jim chuckled quietly.

“Are you going to ask me what I’m wearing?“

“I… No…“

“Good night, Seb.“ And Jim hang up.

Sebastian sighed and put his phone back into his pocket. What a train wreck. When he came back to their table, Liam had already organised new drinks for the both of them. This evening would not end well.

“Your new boss?“

Sebastian sat down and took the first shot.

“No“, he said and waited until Liam was taking a sip from his beer before he continued, “It was Jim.“ He had no idea why he was saying this. The words came out of his mouth before he could even think about their meaning.

Liam’s jaw dropped, beer spraying through the air, and he nearly choked on his breath.

“What?“

Sebastian laughed. Liam’s expression was priceless.

“Are you serious?“

“I don’t know. Am I?“

Liam squinted at him, obviously unsure how he was supposed to take this.

“Sebastian, is Moriarty still alive?“

Sebastian hesitated, then nodded. Liam slammed both his hands on the table.

“No!“, he exclaimed so loud quite a few people turned their heads, “No fucking way!“

“Jesus, be quiet!“

“He’s _alive_? Are you _kidding me_?“

“Shut up, Liam, you’re not even supposed to know.“

Liam blinked, took another shot and suddenly started to giggle like a schoolgirl. He covered his face with his hands, still giggling, his broad shoulders heaving, shaking.

“Unbelievable“, he groaned finally, “ _unbelievable._ “

Sebastian nodded. This had probably been a bad idea. He trusted Liam but if Jim ever found out that he had told someone - and Jim would find out. Jim always knew everything. _Too late._ Jim probably knew already, he had probably bugged Sebastian or this restaurant or _Marseille_ , somehow, because _Jim._

Sebastian frowned at his own line of thoughts.

“I know. I saw him… shoot himself. Suddenly, eight months later, he stands in the middle of my flat, alive and kicking.“

“You didn’t know?“

“I had no fucking idea. Being his right hand doesn’t mean he lets me in on his plans. I don’t know what’s going on 90 percent of the time.“

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between not telling you about his internet habits and not telling you about a faked suicide."

Sebastian snorted. Jim’s internet habits were probably rather boring.

“He’s my boss, he can do whatever he want.“

“Is he the one paying for all this?“

“Yes.“

“Perfect. Then I’ll go and order something more expensive.“

  
  
The night ended with Liam throwing up into the sea and Sebastian falling over a bin, scattering rubbish all over the street. When Sebastian tried to get into his bed he felt like climbing the mast at rough sea and he didn’t dare to move another inch after his face finally found place between the two pillows. It’s wasn’t comfortable but it had to suffice. He tried to toe off his shoes but they were too tightly tied. Sebastian groaned and shuffled one hand between his chest and the mattress to somehow open the buttons of his shirt but it became harder and harder and the world slowed down until the silence -

 

Never before had Sebastian hated Joe Strummer’s voice as much as he did when the first lines of _Guns of Brixton_ woke him the morning after. He tried to cover his head with a pillow but the noise didn’t stop. It was too loud. What the fuck was Strummer doing in his bedroom anyway? All he wanted was to die in peace - he would _never_ drink again, _never_ \- to make his headache go away, the headache and the sickness. _The sickness_.

He sighed in relief as the music finally stopped and instantly dozed off again, just to startle when only seconds later Strummer started singing again. _When they kick in your front door…_

Only now Sebastian noticed the soft vibrations against his leg. It took him a moment to combine the facts and realise that Joe Strummer hadn’t risen from the dead but rather it was his bloody phone ringing. Groaning as every small movement nearly made him throw up all over the bed he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and pressed it against his ear.

“Hello“, he tried to say but his mouth was so dry he could barely make a sound.

“ _Good morning, Sebastian!_ “, yelled Jim.

Sebastian winced and nearly dropped he phone.

“Funny“, he muttered and rolled over on his back, the whole world swashing around him. Jim - _the bastard_ \- actually laughed.

“Tell me what you found out.“

“Now?“ Sebastian could think of a million things he’d rather do right now and sleeping was the undisputed number one.

“Yes, Moran, now.“

Sebastian sighed.

“Alright. Give me a second.“ He put his phone on speaker and slowly sat up. The world wasn’t spinning as bad as expected and if he breathed carefully enough he could actually keep the nausea under control. _At least_. He had had worse hangovers.

“I need to drink something first.“ With his tongue sticking to his gums he didn’t want to talk for longer than a few seconds, so he carefully climbed out of bed and wavered to the mini bar in the corner of the room.

“Take your time, Moran, I’m having all day“, Jim said with his dangerously deadpan voice. Sebastian grunted and took a few small sips from one of the mini bar’s water bottles. While making his way back to the bed he unbuttoned the few buttons he hadn’t managed to open the night before and shrugged out of his shirt. He started to tell Jim about their discoveries and undressed in the meantime before he collapsed on the bed again, his head hitting the pillows a little bit harder than anticipated.

“We’ll attend this charity thing on Saturday.“

“What was the name again?“

“Robineau.“

Sebastian collapsed on the bed and tucked himself in. He didn’t intend to stay awake for another minute after this phone call ended.


	12. Chapter 11 - ... From Pulling The Trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: 
> 
> I might not be able to upload a chapter next week as I'm having some major surgery on Friday. If I can't make it - I wish all of you a merry christmas. Thank you for reading, it means a lot to me. 
> 
> <3 Mads

Chapter 11

**... FROM PULLING THE TRIGGER**   
  


  
Sebastian woke up around noon and ordered some late breakfast to his room. After taking a shower, eating some amazing French food and drinking at least half a gallon of water he finally felt somewhat alive again. He made himself comfortable on the bed and browsed the hotels’ spa leaflet. If he had to wait he could just as well relax a bit in the meantime. He called the reception and booked a massage for three o’clock. After another hour of zapping through the TV he put on his sweatpants and the t-shirt from the day before - it smelled a bit, but that didn’t really matter - and took the elevator down to the spa area where he followed the signs to the fitness area. There was everything the heart could wish for, from simple stationary fitness bikes to complex gym machines and a huge variety of dumbbells. Sebastian chose one of the treadmills and started to run in a relaxed, slow pace. He plugged his earphones into his mobile, opened the music app and started his 160bpm list with Def Leppard’s _Rocket_ , humming along as he completed his twenty minute warm up. Afterwards he switched to some harder music as he walked over to the dumbbells. Jim’s house in Kensington had had a well equipped fitness room and Sebastian missed his evening workouts. He missed the surveillance room, he missed the sauna, he missed his own bedroom, he missed the library, he missed the pool. He missed sex on the balcony in the middle of the night. He missed _London._

 

He was on his belly, two warm hands kneading his back in a highly professional manner, when he received a call from Liam. They made an appointment for dinner later the day - no alcohol, they said, but would probably forget about that anyway - and when his massage was over Sebastian returned to his room, his muscles loosened and relaxed, and lounged on the bed for another hour, browsing the web on his mobile. He thought about calling Jim but as he didn’t know what they should talk about he decided against it and rather read some articles about the current football season. He used to be a Gunners fan, mainly because his grandfather had owned a jersey from Frank McLintock, Arsenal’s star defender from their double triumph season in 1971, that he claimed to have won in a poker game.

 

Sebastian spent most of Friday morning in the city centre. He went to a barber and had his hair cut, although not as short as usual. Afterwards he bought some make-up to cover his bruises, coloured contact lenses and cheap hair dye. On his way back to the hotel he came across a tie shop and spontaneously decided to enter it. After looking at a great variety of different ties he finally settled on a teal knitted silk tie and paid a ridiculous amount of money for it. Jim would look marvellous with that tie.

In the evening he received an e-mail from Jim with some detailed information about the Robineau family. Not much Sebastian hadn’t already found out by himself but it was good to have it all in one place. On Saturday - after another trip to the hotel gym - he dyed his hair pitch-black and kneaded it while drying to make his natural waves turn into curls. He put in the new contact lenses and covered his bruises. At 6:30 he left the hotel dressed in his new suit, meeting Liam down at the port, close to the restaurant they had visited the evening before.

“Nice hair colour.“

“You should get your sleeves hemmed“, Sebastian pointed out and immediately took a step back to dodge Liam’s punch. 

“Sod off, I just bought it. You didn’t tell me to bring a suit. And not all of us are blessed with perfect body proportions, Prince Charming.“

Sebastian snorted. 

“Anyway, do you have money for the donation?“ 

“I don’t but Jim does. As far as I know John Wilkers’ fake card actually works, so the cheque should be covered.“ 

“For your own sake I hope it’s covered because you used the same bloody account for my money.“ 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and hailed a cab.

“Shut up Liam.“ 

They entered the cab and Sebastian named the address. It wasn’t a long ride, they could’ve walked, but a cab was making a better impression. 

“Still can’t believe he’s alive“, Liam muttered. “Cheered too soon, I’m afraid.“ He looked at Sebastian and sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad to see you sober and everything, but… he’s a bloody lunatic. This whole thing won’t end well. For none of us.“ 

Sebastian decided to raise his eyebrows instead of admitting that Liam was right. Liam chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry. Shouldn’t say that kind of stuff about your boyfriend.“ 

“He’s not…“ 

Liam immediately shook his head to interrupt him. 

“Oh, I know, he’s not your boyfriend, he’s your boss. You’re still in love with him. Which is, truth be told, a mystery to me.“ 

“You talk quite a lot about it considering that you _couldn’t care less_ “, Sebastian said with a smirk. 

“Sorry. It’s that bloody wedding. If you had to talk about flowers and chair covers all day you’d go crazy, too. And the bridesmaids… oh, don’t get me started on the bridesmaids.“ 

Gladly they reached their destination before Liam could actually start talking about the bridesmaids - Sebastian knew enough about Sila’s friends already. They paid the driver and ducked out of the cab. 

 

Sebastian felt the Glock strapped tightly to his body, covered only by his jacket. They had a plan now. He would have preferred to have a little more time to observe the target, gather more information and take him out at the best opportunity. But Jim wanted this to happen _now._ So their plan was as perfect as possible - but it still lacked an escape strategy. Additionally most parts of their plan were premised on luck and coincidences. It would work - Sebastian wouldn’t risk it otherwise - but it wasn’t the most solid plan they had ever had. 

Part one of their plan involved attending the charity event as John Wilkers, a rather successful English businessman with an interest in art, and his assistant Paul. Sebastian had Jim asked to set up a superficial online persona. They would pretend interest and probably end up buying one of the exhibits. 

Sebastian checked his pockets before they entered the gallery. _Phone, wallet, gun._ Everything had its place. 

“That’s the girl I was talking to“, Liam whispered and pointed at a young woman in front of the entrance. She was wearing a beautiful ruby dress and a pair of shoes that made her about two inches taller than Liam. Sebastian put on his best smile and approached her, Liam directly by his side. He introduced himself and told her about his fake company and his fake interest in art and he could see her face brighten up as he spoke. She could probably _smell_ the money he was bringing with him.

Sebastian was then introduced to Robineau Junior, a tall young man with brown skin and thick, black curls, dressed in an impeccable suit. They briefly spoke about Robineau Junior’s involvement with some sort of charity organisation helping to provide water in African countries and how art was an excellent way of raising donations. Sebastian pretended to be interested. Gladly Robineau Junior was one of those people who preferred talking instead of listening and with a few well timed nods Sebastian could keep the conversation alive. At one point Sebastian put his hand on Robineau Junior’s arm and pulled the cheque out of his pocket. The man glanced at the numbers and an honest smile appeared on his face. 

“This is… very generous, Mr Wilkers. Thank you very much.“ 

Sebastian shook his head. 

“You’re welcome. Of course I’m also interested in buying one of those photographs. I simply admire the colours.“ Sebastian pointed at a series of photographs showing portraits of young people with sad looks on their faces, teenagers from all around the world, of all ethnicities. He actually liked the pictures and he could visualise them on the wall above the sofa back in London. Jim would hate them. Not that Sebastian was going to pick them up after killing Bouchon. 

Robineau Junior nodded and shook his hand a second time. 

“I would love to introduce you to the photographer but sadly she couldn’t make it, she’s currently in Canada for a new project. Anyway, take your time. Come to me when you made a decision.“ 

Sebastian thanked him. Time for the next step.

 

Part two was making contact with Bouchon via Robineau Junior, who, after selling one of the most expensive exhibits to _John Wilkers,_ should be happy to do anything for Sebastian. 

They had spotted Bouchon a few minutes after Sebastian’s talk with Robineau Junior. He had only two bodyguards with him and was mostly busy talking to Robineau Senior and smiling for the press. Only a few journalists were present, probably a deliberate selection, nobody who would dare to write anything critical about any involved politician. Nevertheless Sebastian had Liam keep an eye on the journalists, especially the ones equipped with cameras, to make sure that none of them took a picture of one of their faces. 

After a while Bouchon finally approached Robineau Junior. Sebastian made eye contact with Liam and gave him a short nod before he grabbed a glass of champagne and walked over to the two men. Robineau Junior noticed him part-way and greeted him with a warm smile. 

“Mr Wilkers, have you made your decision?“ 

“Yes indeed, I have. Sorry for the interruption.“ 

“Oh, don’t worry. Mr Wilkers, André Bouchon. André, John Wilkers.“ He added a few words in French that brought a smile on Bouchon’s face.

Sebastian shook Bouchon’s hand. 

“I settled on the young man with the cigarette.“ 

“Ah, Romano. His expression is impressive, isn’t it?“ 

“It definitely is.“ 

Robineau Junior called his assistant, the woman in the ruby dress, and talked to her in fast French. 

“May I leave the two of you alone for a second?“, he then asked facing Bouchon. The politician nodded and Robineau Junior and the woman disappeared in the back.

“Gerard told me you’re a businessman?“ 

“I am. I’m sorry, your name rings a bell, but I don’t know where to place you.“ 

Bouchon chuckled and carefully ran his fingers through his perfectly groomed hair. He had the same posh attitude as Mycroft Holmes. No wonder the two of them got along. 

“I’m a politician.“ 

Sebastian let two seconds pass before he inhaled and raised his hands. 

“André Bouchon, president-elect. Yes. Well, what an honour to meet you, Sir.“ 

“Please, Mr Wilkers, no _Sir_ tonight. I’m not working.“ 

Before Sebastian could respond Robineau Junior returned and patted Sebastian’s shoulder. 

“Mr Wilkers, my assistant will gladly discuss the details with you.“ 

Fifteen minutes later and quite an amount of money poorer Sebastian returned to the main room. He looked for Liam and eventually found him at the buffet, stacking food on a plate as if he was about to starve.  

“Hey“, Liam greeted him, “You need to try this stuff. I have no idea what it is and admittedly it looks a bit gross but it’s really good.“ 

Sebastian glanced at the plate and raised his eyebrows. Whatever it was, it definitely didn’t look tasty. It actually looked like _pig’s feet._ And Sebastian knew the French cuisine well enough to know that if something looked like feet, it probably _were_ feet. 

“No, thanks. I had dinner in the hotel restaurant.“ 

Liam shrugged and began eating. 

 

Part three of the plan was the most important one. They had to make Robineau Junior invite them to the party on the family yacht afterwards. Against expectations Sebastian didn’t even have to do anything - Robineau Junior approached them at the buffet and told them about the party, asking them to join. 

 

Part four was only easy in theory. A diversionary manoeuvre by Liam so Sebastian could shoot Bouchon and at best be able to push him over the railing. 

They arrived at the mooring around ten. Sebastian and Liam via cab, Bouchon in his sleek black limousine. Standing at the bow, his hands on the railing, the yacht was even more impressive, and Sebastian thought about all the money on Jim’s account and that they could easily buy a similar yacht for themselves. He heard Liam chuckling next to him and turned his head to face him. 

“I’m the king of the world“, Liam whispered and raised his arms over his head. Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not going to sing _My heart will go on_ with you.“ 

“No problem. I’ll go and ask the DJ.“ 

Their eyes met and they both broke out in laughter. The _DJ_ was nothing but a young man sitting behind a MacBook while lounge music was playing in the background.

“You know you look a bit like James Bond tonight, don’t you?“ 

Sebastian snorted. 

“If I’m James Bond, who are you?“ 

“Well, shit. Seems like I’m the hot babe.“ 

“You should consider switching clothes with Robineau’s assistant. Ruby’s your colour.“ 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the legs for such a dress.“ Liam winked at him.

This was one of the biggest differences between them. While Sebastian became gradually calmer during a job Liam had to distract himself to stay focused. Sebastian didn’t mind - he was used to it by now - but he had met enough people who despised working with Liam because he was driving them insane with his chatter. 

“What do you think, which Bond villain is Jim?“ 

“Le Chiffre“, Sebastian answered without hesitation. Liam seemed to think about his answer for a second before he nodded. 

“Mathematical genius, chess prodigy, always well dressed, definitely insane. Yes, I think that fits.“ Liam chuckled and leaned closer to Sebastian until his mouth nearly touched Sebastian’s ear. 

“Does he also slap your balls?“ 

Sebastian choked on his own breath and his eyes welled up while Liam had to hang on to the railing to prevent himself from falling as he shook with laughter. 

“Fucking hell, Liam.“ 

“Sorry“, Liam said and proceeded giggling.

“Go and do your job.“ 

“All right, Colonel. On your sign.“ He smirked and tapped his forehead with two fingers before he turned around. 

“Oh, and Liam?“ Sebastian waited until Liam looked over his shoulder. “Shaken, not stirred.“ 

“See you later, Mr Bond.“ 

Sebastian watched as Liam disappeared in the crowd before he got himself a nonalcoholic cocktail at the bar - a bar that had a gigantic glass pyramid right next to it - and, after making sure that Bouchon was indeed standing near the railing, went to the bathroom. He locked himself into the stall and shrugged out of his jacket. He detached the holster and attached it to his jacket before he put the silencer on his gun and cocked it. Sebastian took a few deep breaths. _Ready_. With the jacket over his arm he left the stall. Gladly he was alone in the bathroom. With a warm smile on his lips he went back outside and approached Bouchon, on finger on the trigger of his gun. One bodyguard was directly next to him, the other one kept roaming around. 

Bouchon noticed him and smiled politely, giving him a short nod to invite him over. His bodyguard glanced at him, recognised him from earlier and turned away to observe the other guests. This was too easy. Sebastian raised the hand holding the cocktail and carefully rubbed the side of his face. This was the moment. 

Sebastian felt his pulse quickening. The world around him slowed down. He was completely focussed now. There was nothing but him and Bouchon, nothing between the man’s flesh and the barrel of his gun. His heart beat twice before he heard it. A surprised squeal, followed by the tremendous sound of breaking glass. _The pyramid._ Sebastian didn’t turn around to confirm his assumption. The bodyguard was distracted. Bouchon furrowed his brow.

Sebastian was only inches away when they locked eyes. 

And Bouchon _knew._ He knew what was about to happen and he knew it was too late. It was written all over his face and Sebastian could feel the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“James Moriarty is sending his love“, he said and waited for another split second to savour the change of Bouchon’s expression, eyes widening, lips parted, before he pulled the trigger. 

The bullet left the barrel and entered Bouchon’s body, tunnelling its way through his heart. Despite the silencer the noise was unmistakeable. 

Sebastian didn’t even have to push Bouchon. As his body collapsed he fell backwards, hitting the railing and dropping down into the ocean like a sack of flour. 

And hell broke loose. 

 

They had talked about part five, but none of their escape strategies had been particularly good. After some discussion they had decided to simply rely on their instincts. They had both done this often enough to know what to do in a certain situation. But none of them had considered that something might go wrong. 

And Sebastian _knew_ something was wrong before he even felt the pain. Before he even heard the shot. Pure heat burned through his side, followed by a terrible sting, a jolt of pain that pressed the air out of his lungs. Sebastian ignored the feeling and leaped forward, over the railing, following Bouchon down the yacht into the darkness of the ocean.

The water was cold. _Freezing._ It numbed his thoughts and the salt burned so badly he forgot how to swim. His limbs wouldn’t move as he sunk deeper and deeper. Deeper and _deeper._ Around him nothing but darkness. _This was it then_. It was cold. Too cold. He hadn’t managed to take a breath before his jump and he felt a certain dizziness as the last bit of air escaped his lungs. _Cold. Pain._ For a second - lasting longer than an eternity - Sebastian considered accepting his fate, his body floating in the icy darkness, his consciousness slowly fading. 

He suddenly remembered his father, his strong, dirty hands grabbing young Sebastian’s arms, dragging him across the house, shoving him into the bathtub. Sebastian had been afraid of water. He remembered his fear, his fear that turned into pure panic as his father pushed his head under water, holding him down for what seemed like minutes. And he remembered the soft voice of his mother comforting him. He felt her arms around him and finally felt save. No pain. No pain anymore. 

But then his instincts finally kicked in. _Move, Moran._ He couldn’t _die_ like this. Drowning in bloody France. He couldn’t leave Jim with _Guillaume_ , he couldn’t let his father be the last thing he remembered… and he started to swim, pain washing through his body, the lack of oxygen numbing his mind. When he finally breached the surface the first breath he took felt better than _anything_ , and he _breathed,_ and the world came back, the noise, the yelling. The chaos on the yacht. _Right_ , Sebastian remembered, he had just killed the presidential candidate. He had to get out of here as fast as possible. 

Every swimming stroke sent a jolt of pain through his body. Sebastian knew he was running on nothing but adrenaline. Gun shot wounds _hurt_ , they hurt far more than Hollywood movies suggested. And he was loosing blood, he had to get out of the water although the cold helped numbing the pain. 

It was dark and foggy and he was sure nobody could see him from the yacht. There was still a lot of noise, people shouting, and he could hear sirens wailing in the distance. In a few minutes there would be cops everywhere. 

Sebastian managed to reach the jetty several moorings away from the yacht.He pulled himself up and rolled over the wooden planks, panting, one hand pressing on his left side. _Move._ His body refused to listen. _You’re not going to die here, Moran. Move._ He groaned as he struggled to his feet. His hand grasped a pole to steady his wavering body. The sirens were close now. Sebastian ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around his waist. His knees threatened to yield as he tightened the makeshift bandage around his wound. Sebastian grit his teeth. Then he bend down to pour some water over the planks to wash away his blood. He couldn’t risk leaving any traces.

His body shivered with cold as he ran - _stumbled_ \- along the jetty. This was not his preferred outcome. The world behind him was down in mayhem. He had to be extremely careful as the main way was lit up and it wasn’t especially hard to spot him in his white t-shirt shining bright in the night. Sebastian crouched down and sneaked along the edge. From what he could hear the people behind him started spreading out. Their top priority was undoubtedly Bouchon but they wouldn’t complain if they caught him. When he reached the end of the jetty he took a deep breath and jumped over the small stone wall separating the moorings from the main road. 

Then he suddenly stopped dead. 

_Liam._


	13. Chapter 12 - Go On. For Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing last week.   
> Wishing all of you a happy new year.

 

Chapter 12

**GO ON. FOR ME.**

 

 

Sebastian leaned his body against the wall and took a few deep breaths. He needed a short break from running to figure out his next steps. The police was _everywhere_ now. If he waited too long they would probably find him, he had to keep moving, but the pain and the cold made it harder and harder to walk. And, of course, there was Liam. Sebastian knew he couldn’t go back. This wasn’t some Hollywood action movie, he couldn’t singlehandedly take out two dozens of cops - especially not without weapons. And Liam was a professional. If there was any chance for him to escape he would take it, if not there was nothing Sebastian could do to help him anyway. He had to save himself first. The cold was dangerous - and he was still loosing blood, although the wound didn’t seem to be too bad. He had been shot before, more than once, and one bullet had even ruptured his right lung. 

This could have been worse. _So much worse_.

He had to keep going.

Sebastian glanced around to get an overview. He had no idea where he was, some alley close to the port, but from where he was hiding he couldn’t even see a street name. His hand automatically went into his pocket to fetch his mobile but as he pressed the button to unlock the screen nothing happened. Sebastian frowned and rubbed his thumb over the wet display. It remained dark. The water had killed it. Sebastian sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He could worry about that later. Right now he had to find dry clothes and some bandages. With a huff he pushed himself off the wall and followed the alley further away from the port until he reached a small parking area. _Perfect_. He couldn’t spot any security cameras - and for the split of a second he felt relieved to be in France and not in London - so he walked over to the few cars and peaked into each of them. At the fourth car he finally found what he was looking for - a winter jacket on the backseat. Sebastian picked up a piece of a broken cobblestone, smashed the window and stole the jacket. It was slightly too big but warm and dry and comfortable. He enjoyed the feeling for a second before he unlocked the trunk and looked for the first aid box, eventually finding it buried underneath an old blanket. Sebastian shrugged out of the jacket again and superficially dried himself with the blanket, always anxious not to leave any blood stains. He emptied the first aid box into the pockets of the new jacket before he put it back on and closed the trunk.

Gladly his hotel wasn’t far away. He just had to figure out which way to go.

 

After two minutes of walking he stopped dead and covered his face with his hands. His room card was in his wallet and his wallet was in the pocket of his jacket and his jacket was at the bottom of the ocean, leaving him without any of his stuff. Sebastian cursed under his breath and was still considering his options when a police car turned into the street. His heart rate increased instantly. The car drove slowly. Sebastian took a deep breath and just walked, his body upright - despite the pain that nearly made him throw up as he stretched himself out - and his hands in his pockets. The car came closer, the headlights dazzling him, and he kept walking, step after step after step.

The car passed him.

Sebastian exhaled in relief and bent a little to diminish the pain. He needed a save place to bandage his wound first, then he would think of a way to contact Jim and get back to Reims. The thought of Liam creeped back into his mind but he pushed it aside. There was nothing he could do and worrying didn’t help any of them. _Not now._ He continued walking along the road - he had no clue where he was anyway - and felt the adrenalin decreasing. His body started to shiver with cold and every twitch sent jolts of pain through his whole body. What a week. Seven days ago he had been sitting on a beach in Wales, now he was stumbling through Marseille with bruises on his head and a hole in his body. And Jim would probably give him a hard time for getting shot.

As he reached the end of the road he noticed a bright blue sign just a few hundred metres to the side. _A petrol station_. A petrol station with a public toilet. Probably not the most sanitary place but it should suffice.

There were no cars at the station, only a bored looking boy standing behind the counter, his eyes locked on the screen of his mobile phone. Sebastian didn’t pay him any attention, he had already spotted the small sign telling him that the toilets were on the back, so he circled the building and entered the gents’ toilet. It was even cleaner than expected. He locked the door behind him and shrugged out of the jacket. Both his t-shirt and his shirt were soaked with blood. It didn’t look good. Sebastian covered the area around the sink with the jacket and spread the content of the first aid box on it. He toed off his shoes and stuffed them with paper towels, wrung out his socks and hang his slacks over the hand dryer before he washed his hands - twice. After he had dried his hands he removed the shirt and rolled up his t-shirt to inspect the wound. The bullet had entered his body between his 8th and 9th rib, ricocheted from the lower bone to exit an inch below his ribcage without damaging his intestines. His rib was probably broken, but he would survive. At least he was pretty sure he would. He carefully treated the wound - pausing every few seconds to turn the hand dryer back on - and eventually wrapped bandages around his body. After a couple more minutes he slipped back into his slacks. They still felt damp but at least the dryer had warmed them up a bit. Sebastian cleaned the sink and put the rest of the bandages back into the jacket’s pockets. Now that he wasn’t bleeding all over the place anymore he had to start thinking about his next steps. He wrapped himself into the jacket, put the hood on and sank down on the toilet seat, leaning his head against the tiles.

How was he supposed to get back to Reims? Without any money and probably overly cautious cops all around him? He had no idea. Maybe he could just stay here for a while and rest. Catch his breath. Think of a solution. Just another minute. Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, now that the adrenaline had left his body. _Just another minute_.

 

He was woken by a loud bang close to his ear. Sebastian jumped and instantly regretted it. He did not feel well. Not at all. He was covered in sweat and his whole body hurt - his muscles, his limbs, his head, his side. _Fever._ He groaned as he struggled to his feet and stumbled to the sink to drink some water. His throat felt sore.

The man looking back at him in the mirror was in a terrible condition. Sweaty strands sticking to his forehead, his eyes shining, his skin obviously burning. Sebastian cursed and wiped the sweat off his face. He had to get to Reims as fast as possible. Maybe he could hitchhike back.

He left the toilet - one hand always on the wall to support himself - and was sincerely surprised as he realised he had slept through the whole night. The light hurt in his eyes despite the fact that the sun was just about to rise. Sebastian sighed.

Four cars were standing at the petrol station now. It had been an incredibly long time since Sebastian had last hitchhiked anywhere. He stared at the cars and the people around them and didn’t really know what to do. No one in his right mind would give him a lift, not the way he looked like right now. Especially no families, crossing two of the cars already off the list. Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and approached the driver of a black Audi. But before he could even say a word the man quickly entered his car and actually locked the doors behind him.

“Fuck you, too“, Sebastian mumbled.

The problem was that he couldn’t be too intrusive. He had no idea how things had turned out. For all he knew Bouchon could still be alive - he doubted it, but he couldn’t just enter the petrol station and read a newspaper. Mainly because he wouldn’t understand a word anyway, but also because it was too much of a risk.

 

Over the next hour he started feeling worse and worse. He didn’t ask many people - and he had to be careful not to be noticed by the petrol station personnel - but the ones he asked refused to give him a lift or were only driving a few miles. Sebastian was about to give up when a red Mini stopped right next to him. However it wasn’t the car that attracted his attention, it was a bumper sticker with the word “Picardie“ on it and he knew that the Picardie was a region in the northern part of France. This car could be his way back to Reims. He wiped the sweat off his face and tried to look as normal as possible as he approached the girl who was just getting out of her car. She was tall and blonde with a heart shaped face and a little silver ring in her nose.

“Excuse me“, he said with a husky voice. The girl turned away from the patrol cap and looked up at him.

“I’m…“, he started but was instantly interrupted by a fit of coughing that hurt so bad it nearly made him pass out. He would have tumbled, but the girl managed to grab his arm just in time.

“You don’t look well“, she said, “You should probably go to a hospital.“

Sebastian shook his head.

“No. No hospital. I just need a lift.“

“Where to?

“Reims.“

“Well, I’m on my way to Amiens. I normally don’t drive through Reims but it’s not really a detour, so I could give you a lift. Although I still think you should go see a doctor.“

Sebastian sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank you.“

“You’re not going to murder me, are you?“

“I doubt I’m in the right condition to murder anyone right now.“

She chuckled and opened the passenger door for him.

“Hop in.“

Sebastian smiled at her and collapsed on the seat. This was good. _Finally._ While the girl was still fuelling her car he decided to close his eyes, just for a second. When she opened the driver’s door Sebastian startled and the pain that shot through his entire body brought tears to his eyes. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Okay, if you pass out I’ll bring you to a hospital, no arguments.“

Sebastian nodded.

“Fair enough.“

She entered the car and started the engine.

“I’m Amélie, by the way.“

“Sebastian“, Sebastian said without any hesitation, “Seb.“ He didn’t have the energy to lie right now.

“Well, Seb, any music preferences?“

He shook his head. Amélie shrugged and put a random CD in the player. Sebastian didn’t recognise the music, it was some sort of French Indie. Not necessarily Sebastian’s cup of tea, but he couldn’t care less right now.

“Your English is pretty good.“

She glanced at him and smirked.

“Thank you. I study linguistic sciences in Amiens. May I ask where you’re from?“

“London.“

“Really? You don’t sound like you’re from London…“

“Don’t I?“ Sebastian chuckled. “Yeah, I wasn’t born in London, but London is what I call home.“

“London is a beautiful city. Not as beautiful as Paris, though.“

“Never been to Paris before.“

“What? How can you travel through France and not visit Paris?“

Sebastian thought about his answer for a second. How honest did he want to be with her? What could he tell her? He knew his mind wasn’t clear enough for any rational decisions. _Fuck it_ , he thought and simply answered her question.

“I’m here for business, not leisure. Oh, and I have been to Paris. Took the plane down to Marseille.“ 

“What kind of job do you have that you end up hitchhiking back looking like a corpse?“

“I’m just a businessman. Nothing exciting. But then I got sick and managed to lose my bag with my wallet and my phone and my keys… I think it’s safe to say I had a pretty bad week.“

“Well, be glad it’s Sunday!“

They both chuckled until Sebastian was interrupted by another fit of coughing.

“Seb, you should sleep a bit. We’ll be on the road for at least seven hours.“

Sebastian nodded and closed his eyes. She was right. He could use some sleep. Just a few minutes without pain. Just one or two minutes.

 

“Seb? Hey, Seb.“

He groaned as the pain creeped back into his consciousness and all he wanted was to fall back into the sweet darkness of sleep. He actually felt worse than before. His side was throbbing suspiciously. The last thing he needed right now was an infection.

“Sebastian? We’re halfway there, I’m about to get some food. You want something?“

“I don’t have any money.“

“Oh please. I might be a student but I think I can afford Burger King for two.

“Thank you.“

“You’re welcome. What do you want?“

“Don’t know. I’ll have the same as you.“

She left the car - closing the door as gentle as possible - and returned only a few minutes later with two large brown bags and two cups in her hands.

“Cheers.“ She dropped one of the bags on his lap and placed both cups in the cup holders. “A hot soup would be better for you, but beggars can’t be choosers.“

Amélie ate while driving and Sebastian tried some of the burger but the fat nearly made him throw up, so he decided to stick to the fries instead.

“Feeling any better?“

“Not really. But at least I’m less hungry.“

“Well, it’s something.“

“Thank you, Amélie.“

 

Half an hour later a weird ringing sounded and Amélie shifted on her seat to pull a phone out of her pocket. She glanced at the screen and smiled before putting it in a tray between their seats. Sebastian looked at the phone and tried to remember Jim’s number. He should give him a call. Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Of course Amélie would own a mobile phone.

“May I borrow your phone?“

“Sure“, Amélie said and handed him her mobile, “Just draw a four to unlock it.“

He followed her order and dialled Jim’s number - or at least what he suspected to be Jim’s number. It rang three times, four times, five times.

“Pick up, Jim…“, Sebastian gnarled and exhaled when the line finally clicked.

“Yes?“, barked Jim.

“It’s me, Sebastian. I…“

“Where the _fuck_ are you, Moran?“

If he wouldn’t know any better he would say Jim was actually worried about him.

“I f…“ Gladly he remembered just in time that he wasn’t alone. “I lost my mobile, my wallet… and…“ He stopped himself before he could mention his injury. It wasn’t important. And Amélie didn’t have to know. “I’m hitchhiking back to the north.“

“Is the job done?“

“Of course it is.“

“At least.“ And Jim hang up on him.

Sebastian sighed and put the phone back. What did he expect? _Love and care_? Still, Sebastian was somehow disappointed. Ever since he had nearly _fucking_ drowned, a hole in his body, he had craved to hear Jim’s voice. It was ridiculous. He knew it was. Bloody _sentiment_.

“You don’t look happy“, Amélie said, “You want to call anybody else?“

“There’s nobody else.“ Sebastian closed his eyes. He knew exactly how pathetic he was right now but he couldn’t care less. His side hurt badly, the pain becoming worse with every breath he took. Gladly Amélie didn’t push the issue.

Ten minutes later her phone suddenly started ringing. They both looked at it simultaneously.

“It’s your friend.“

Sebastian furrowed his brow and hesitated for a second before he grabbed the phone and finally answered the call.

“Jim?“

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Are you okay?“ Jim’s voice was calm. So he _was_ worried about Sebastian.

Sebastian smiled.

“I will be. Nothing too serious.“

“I didn’t sleep.“

“I’m sorry, Jim. I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful.“

“Yes.“

“Jim, listen, could you pick me up later? I’d text you time and place and… Please.“ He coughed - and coughed and couldn’t stop and his side hurt as if somebody was stabbing him continuously.

“Text me.“

Jim hang up and Sebastian desperately tried to catch his breath.

“Hey, are you okay?“ Amélie placed one hand on his thigh. “Can you breathe?“

“Yeah.“

“Your boyfriend?“, she asked and completely caught him off guard. Was it that obvious? Was he that obviously _gay_? And if yes, since _when?_  

“I… he… no“, he answered, because Jim wasn’t his boyfriend, but because he was tired and in pain and he didn’t really care he added: “I love him.“

“And does he love you?“ Amélie cooed.

Sebastian huffed.

“It’s far more complicated.“ And he sounded pathetic again.

“Oh, come on, Seb, we’ll never meet again. Tell me something. It’s a long trip.“

_Why not?_ He had never had the chance to talk about Jim before - Liam didn’t count.  _Liam_ . Liam, who was - probably dead, Sebastian interrupted himself and bit his underlip. There was still nothing he could do, not about Liam. But he  _could_ sit here and talk about Jim with a complete stranger, someone who didn’t know that Jim was an insane criminal mastermind. He would deal with Liam later. He  _couldn’t_ deal with it now.

“I don’t really know where to start.“

“Well, start with describing him to me.“

Sebastian looked at her. She seemed genuinely interested. He smiled, leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes.

“All right. He’s four inches smaller than me. Small frame, dark hair, brown eyes.“ He smirked. “Huge brown eyes.“

“I bet he’s cute.“

Sebastian chuckled. That was not a word he would use to describe Jim.

“I wouldn’t go that far.“

“Okay. How did you meet?“

“He employed me.“

“Oh! Your boss?!“

“Well… it’s complicated. Technically yes, but it’s more than that.“

She didn’t say anything. Sebastian sighed and started rubbing his face.

“We live together. It’s… quite a long story. I hadn’t seen him for eight months, then he suddenly showed up in the middle of the night, as if nothing had ever happened… He… He’s a difficult man.“

“From _we live together_ to _he’s a difficult man_ in basically one sentence? Wow.“

“Well…“ He didn’t know what else to say. Jim _was_ a difficult man and not easy to describe. Not without mentioning his criminal tendencies, his insanity.

“Why do you love him?“

Sebastian thought about it, honestly thought about it, but…

“I don’t know.“

“Okay, let me ask you differently. What do you love about him?“

_That_ was a question he could answer. Probably.  _In theory._

“I… I love when he falls asleep and becomes… just another human being, you know? No matter what, at the end of the day he’s sleeping in my arms and I know I’m the only one he’ll ever allow to see him like that.“ Bloody sentiment. “I love when he smiles or laughs, which is very rare. I… Jim is not a good person, Amélie.“ _Why did he say that?_ “Nobody in his right mind would stay with him. I’m not even sure how it’s possible to love him.“

_Pathetic._

“You’ve never talked about him before, am I right?“

“Yeah.“

“We can change the subject if you want to.“

“No, it’s fine. It’s probably good to talk about it for once.“

Amélie nodded.

“Okay. Then tell me about him. His favourite food. His favourite music. Whatever.“

“Don’t get me started on food. Sometimes it’s impossible to make him eat. And music… I doubt he has any preferences. Oh, but we met while _See you later, Alligator_ was playing. His favourite colour is teal. He looks good in a suit but mostly wears pyjama bottoms and a gown. He’s smart, probably the smartest person I’ll ever meet. I don’t know how many languages he speaks but I assume quite a few. He hates TV and hates it even more when I watch it. He loves books but is often too lazy to read so he lets me read out to him. Oh, and he loves fairy tales, he’s a bit obsessed with the Grimm brothers.“

“That doesn’t sound like he wasn’t a good person.“

Sebastian sighed. How was he supposed to explain this?

“He… sometimes… we don’t talk much. It’s… I take care of him and try to keep my head down. One wrong word and he flips. It can be terrifying. It _is_ terrifying. I mean, I’m physically stronger but… he’s a bit insane.“

“So… you’re saying he’s abusive.“

Yes, Jim was definitely abusive.

“Yeah.“

“Well, does he know? Does he do it on purpose?“

And Jim was definitely doing it on purpose. Jim always knew exactly what he was doing.

“Yes and no. He’s… This is where it gets complicated. I would never want him to change. Just… every time we get too close he freaks out.“

Amélie hummed and rubbed her chin.

“Have you tried to talk to him?“

Sebastian snorted and shook his head. He could imagine how that would go. It would not end well for him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a very bad idea.“

“Well, have you _tried_?“

No, he hadn’t. _How?_ He couldn’t just ask Jim to sit down with him and have a talk about their _relationship_.

“Seb, what could he do? Worst case? It’s not like he would go ahead and murder you.“

That was exactly what Sebastian was afraid of.

“Probably not“, he answered and sighed.

 

They spoke about Amélie’s studies and London and other beautiful European cities and Sebastian eventually texted Jim the address of a petrol station at a junction close to Reims and fell asleep for the last thirty minutes of their trip. Amélie woke him up when she left the motorway and by then Sebastian could hardly move anymore. His wound was definitely infected - which was hardly surprising regarding the fact the had taken a bath in the port - and throbbed painfully with every breath he took.

“Thank you so much, Amélie“, Sebastian said as the car stopped at the petrol station. He could see Jim leaning against their car with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his usual frown on his face. _Jim._

Amélie smiled and scribbled a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper.

“If you ever need to talk about your boyfriend again“, she said and handed him the paper.

“I… thanks.“

“You’re welcome. Get well soon.“

Sebastian nodded and braced himself before he opened the door and stepped out of the car. The pain hit him with full force. He saw that Jim wasn’t moving to help him and he didn’t want to ask Amélie. He somehow managed to reach Jim all by himself but was just about to black out. He wavered, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

“Jim“, he managed to say before he collapsed against Jim’s chest and gladly Jim caught him. Sebastian smelled _Jim_ , he couldn’t see anymore, he couldn’t feel anything but pain, but he could smell him and knew he had made it, he was back, he was save, he was _okay_. Finally.

Jim wrapped one arm around him and together they circled the car.

“I didn’t sleep“, Jim said just as they were about to reach the door.

“Sorry“, Sebastian mumbled, “Just don’t drop me please.“ He had to add that because Jim he knew Jim too well.

“I would never do that“, Jim answered with a bittersweet voice and Sebastian instantly realised his mistake.

It was too late, though.

“You fuck it up, Moran, and expect me to pick you up?“

Jim slammed Sebastian against the side of the car.

Sebastian collapsed, caught in a spinning swirl of pain and nausea and darkness. All he could do was to _breathe_ while Jim’s shoes sparkled in front of his face.

“You are useless, Moran.“

Sebastian passed out. 


	14. Chapter 13 - Kill You Anyway, Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everybody!

 

Chapter 13

**KILL YOU ANYWAY, SOMEDAY**

 

  
Sebastian wasn’t unconscious for long.

As soon as the car next to him started moving he woke up again and he somehow struggled to his feet just to see the back of their car disappearing around a corner.

Of course Amélie was gone, too.

He had no other option than to walk. 

 

By the time he reached their apartment - how long had he been walking? He couldn’t even remember - he had already forgotten how he had made it that far. The world was fuzzy and somehow distant, his mind wrapped in cotton wool. He wasn’t fully conscious, he didn’t even feel anything anymore, the minutes passed with every step and suddenly he was in front of their apartment door, sweat running down his body. He was completely soaked by now and he could hardly bring up the energy to ring the doorbell. Sebastian leaned against the door and listened to his own erratic breathing, his hammering pulse and nearly got lost as the darkness started creeping back into his mind when the door was opened and he tumbled, dropping on the floor without any chance to break his fall. Somewhere in his body he felt the pain but it didn’t make much of a difference. He saw Jim’s shoes only inches away from his face and he fought against the faint and somehow managed to grab Jim’s ankle with one hand, his fingers clutching him without any strength.

“Jim“, he whispered and suddenly he felt _fear_. He needed help, he needed help from Jim - the last person he would want to ask for help - “Don’t let me die.“ Because this was all he could think about, the only thought left in his blurry mind. This was the real danger, not the wound, not the cold, not the infection, not the fever - it was Jim, it had always been Jim. Jim had to save him and Sebastian had to admit what he had already known - he did not entrust his life to Jim.

Jim didn’t react and Sebastian couldn’t hold it off any longer. The darkness slowly flooded his mind and forced him to shut his eyes.

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die.

Something touched his shoulder.

 

_Voices._ He couldn’t understand a word. Were they even speaking a proper language.

 

_Heat._

 

_Cold._

 

_Heat._

 

_Burning pain._

 

The first time he woke up the world around him was completely dark. Probably the middle of the night, he assumed. He didn’t feel much, his body was oddly numb. Just as if he didn’t even have a body. Sebastian groaned. The noise startled him, it was far too loud in his own head. But there was another noise in the room, something more familiar. Soothing. Sebastian listened for a few seconds before he managed to identify the sound. Somebody was breathing next to him. He tried to touch this somebody but his limbs were too heavy, he couldn’t move them, he could only _breathe_ , breathe in the same pattern as the body next to him and slowly fall back into the darkness.

Something cool and wet was on his forehead. Sebastian tried to move away from the feeling and turned his head to the side, but whatever it was - it just followed him. He tried to shake it off - as good as possible with his heavy limbs and his numb body - but failed.

“Stop it, Seb“, said a voice that sounded just like Jim.

Sebastian sighed and surrendered to the voice that sounded just like Jim.

 

A man that oddly looked like Guillaume was carrying him. Carrying him as if he was a child, as if he weighted _nothing._ He tried to say something but every step shook his entire body and the pain - the pain was back and the second Sebastian realised that it hit him like a wall and he had no other choice than to close his eyes and drift back into unconsciousness.

 

The air was filled with the noise of a car engine and those two voices that kept speaking in that language that didn’t make any sense to Sebastian. One of those voices was the one that sounded just like Jim. Maybe because it was indeed Jim. Sebastian approved of this conclusion. The floor beneath his fingertips felt like fabric and the whole room was shaking, vibrating. It took him another few seconds to realise that he was in the back of a car. Sebastian groaned and tried to move his legs, but they were too long and too heavy and too _weird_. His body was numb again, he was feeling no pain at all.

“Go back to sleep, Seb“, the voice that sounded just like Jim said and Sebastian saw a face that looked just like Jim and decided to take the advice and close his eyes again.

 

Sebastian woke up alone in a room he had never seen before. Oak wood furniture, beige-coloured walls, two doors. Simple. He coughed. Muffled voices came from somewhere else. The blanket was soft and cool and felt _amazing_ on his bare skin. He carefully moved his head. His muscles ached, but the pain in his side had disappeared. More than that, his whole body felt oddly numb. A different numbness than before, less hazy, more natural. As he managed to turn his head to the left he could see why - an IV pole was standing at his bedside with an infusion connected to his left hand. Sebastian observed the trickle in the tube for a few minutes, his head pleasingly free and light, until the door was opened and Guillaume entered the room. When he saw Sebastian’s open eyes an honest smile appeared on his face.

“Welcome back“, he said and checked the IV.

Sebastian grunted.

“Whe…“, he managed before his attempt of speaking was interrupted by a cough attack.

“Don’t speak. We’re in my home, it’s Wednesday morning, you’ve been drifting in and out for the last couple of days. Your infection is under control and you’re lucky - you only have a bad cold, not a… I’m sorry, I don’t know the word. _Pneumonie._ “

“Pneumonia“, Sebastian croaked.

“Yes. I’ll take your temperature now.“

Guillaume picked up a small device from the nightstand and held it against Sebastian’s ear until it beeped.

“38,2. Going down. Rest, Sebastian, I’ll go and tell Jim you’re awake.“

Sebastian thought about saying something - _anything -_ but before he could make up his mind Guillaume had already left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He turned his attention back to the IV, back to the soothing consistency of the trickle and he slowly dozed off until the door was pushed open harshly, startling him. Jim stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and he was _furious_. He was so obviously mad at Sebastian that Sebastian instantly regretted waking up. But then Sebastian noticed the dark circles around Jim’s eyes, as bad as he had never seen them before and he realised that Jim hadn’t slept in days. With his free hand he signalled Jim to come closer but of course Jim didn’t move at all. 

“Please“, he brought out and repeated the gesture. “I’m sorry.“ But then he remembered how Jim had dropped him, how Jim had left him behind - how he could have died out there. Jim hadn’t batted an eye. Hadn’t returned to save him. And somehow this thought must had shown on his face because Jim suddenly started moving. He closed the door behind him and approached the bed.

“If you ever do anything like this again I will personally skin you from your feet upwards and I will make you watch, I promise.“ His whole body was shaking as he spoke. “Or I could break your bones. Every single one of them, from the phalanges to your cranial bones.“

Sebastian grabbed Jim’s wrist. They had to talk. They had to talk about this whole thing because if they kept going like this Jim would get Sebastian killed sooner or later.

“Jim“, he started but his throat was too dry and he ended up coughing even harder than before. Jim freed his hand and disappeared through the second door, coming back only seconds later with a glass of water.

Drinking felt _amazing._ The infusion was keeping him hydrated but it didn’t help with his throat’s soreness. Sebastian sighed.

“Thanks.“ He cleared his throat. “Jim, we need to talk.“

“Do we?“

“Could you… please… sit down?“

Jim huffed.

“Not sure I’m in the mood, _boss_ “, Jim said wryly, the corners of his mouth twitching, but he followed Sebastian’s request eventually.

Sebastian inhaled deeply. Suddenly he felt nervous. This was important and he had no idea what he was going to say.

“I love you, Jim.“ Nowadays it was nearly easy to say those words. “And I know you feel the same about me, in some weird and twisted way. But, Jim, every time we get too close you push me away and your way of pushing me away could get me killed. And… I doubt you want me dead.“ He interrupted his speech to cough. “I _know_ you don’t want me dead. Here’s the thing, Jim, having feelings doesn’t make you a different person. It might be normal and therefore _boring_ but it doesn’t invalidate who you are. And I wouldn’t want you to change. All I want is for you to stop hurting me. Admit to your feelings, let them happen. You can love me and still be the smartest, most insane human being I have ever met. Seriously, Jim, is there a rule somewhere stating that criminal masterminds are not allowed to have feelings? I get that feelings make you weak but we’re past that point anyway, don’t you think?“

Sebastian doubted he had ever spoken that much with Jim in the same room. His throat clearly didn’t approve. Jim had turned his face away and with every second that passed without him moving Sebastian became more and more nervous. He didn’t know what else to say, though.

“Jim.“

And Jim finally turned around, his face completely blank, and just stared at Sebastian.

“Now that you’re awake we can remove the IV.“

Sebastian hadn’t really expected an answer but it took him a moment to follow the change of subject while Jim fiddled with the bandaid and pulled the needle out of Sebastian’s hand.

“Thank you. Jim, could you give me just a small hint that you actually listened?“

Jim spun around and pinned Sebastian down.

“I always listen, Moran.“ His elbow was dangerously close to Sebastian’s injury. Sebastian wrapped his fingers around Jim’s upper arm and tried to pull him away but of course he was far too weak for that.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jim.“

Jim sneered at him.

“And what will you do against it?“

Sebastian stared into Jim’s eyes and made a decision. He braced himself for the imminent pain, took a deep breath and pushed himself off the mattress, on Jim, but he had underestimated his lack of energy. The pain wasn’t even the problem, it were his arms that were too weak to turn Jim around. He collapsed under Jim’s weight and cried out in pain as Jim’s bony body pierced into his wound. This was not going as anticipated. _Not at all._ Jim chuckled while Sebastian could hardly breathe, laying on top of him, fingers casually running through his hair.

“That was very effective“, Jim scoffed and didn’t show the slightest inclination to move, not until Sebastian’s coughing and panting became so bad that tears started running down his face. Jim rolled over with a snort.

“You are bloody pathetic.“

Sebastian heard Jim talking but he could barely understand him. He couldn’t breathe. His side was on _fire._ And every time he tried to inhale he had to cough immediately, stirring the fire in his body even more. He needed oxygen. _Now._ Suddenly Jim was close, helping him in an upright position, one arm wrapped around his shoulder.

“Look at me. Sebastian - _look at me._ “ Jim cupped Sebastian’s face with his other hand. “Okay. Now try to calm down. You _can_ breathe, just take it slow. Take it slow.“

Sebastian focused on Jim, his voice, the worried expression on his face - he had rarely seen Jim worried before - and his huge brown eyes and suddenly his airways were clear again and he could finally breathe in. He closed his eyes and took some more deep breaths. This was _exactly_ what he had been talking about. And Jim didn’t seem to be able to see it. Or he didn’t care. Either way they couldn’t keep going like this. As much as Sebastian enjoyed the small positive changes in their relationship since Jim’s return he would immediately go back to before the fall if he could. Jim had always been dangerous and insane but _this_ was starting to threaten Sebastian’s life and it could only get worse. The hands on his cheek and shoulder disappeared and he could hear Jim leaving. When he finally opened his eyes again he was alone in the room. He sighed and leaned back against the headboard.

What was he supposed to do now?

After a couple of minutes Sebastian realised he was only staring at the wall with his mind completely empty. That wasn’t helping. He sighed, carefully climbed out of the bed and toddled into the bathroom. He was wavering and his side was throbbing again as he moved but his circulation withstood the strain and he reached the bathroom without any further incidents. Gladly somebody had stripped him down to his pants so it didn’t take much for him to get naked and stumble into the shower. But just as the water started running down his body he realised that it was probably a rather bad idea to shower with a fresh wound so he turned the water off and just stared at the wall again while he slowly started shivering. He just stood there for minutes, thinking of nothing, until his back had already dried. He was slowly getting tired. _Incredibly_ tired. His eyes hurt. Maybe he should just close them for a second. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles and took a deep breath.

“You’re not supposed to shower.“ Jim’s voice was soft. Weirdly soft. When had he entered the bathroom? Sebastian didn’t know.

“I know. I’m not showering.“

“Well, what are you doing then?“ Was there a spark of amusement in Jim’s voice? Sebastian tried to figure it out but he couldn’t even lift his head anymore, let alone analyse Jim’s mood without even looking at him. Something - probably Jim - touched him and he was guided out of the shower and onto a chair.

“Try not to fall off the chair, please.“

Sebastian nodded and managed to keep his eyes open until Jim returned - when had he left? - with some wet cloths in his hands. Jim dropped all but one and carefully started washing Sebastian’s face.

“You know“, he said hesitantly, “I’m not the cuddling type.“

Which was a lie as he was proving night after night but Sebastian knew what Jim was trying to say.

“I wouldn’t want you to be.“ Jim proceeded to clean his neck and collarbones and it felt incredibly good. “I don’t mind you throwing something after me because I screwed something up or you’re just generally in a bad mood. I can put up with that. I’m talking about what happened last Sunday.“ The last few words were nearly inaudible. Speaking was incredibly exhausting.

Jim paused and cupped Sebastian’s face with his free hand, cocking his head until their eyes met.

“I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried, I…“

Jim, smart and eloquent Jim was struggling for words. Sebastian managed a weak smile.

“I’m sorry. I promise you’ll be able to sleep tonight.“

Jim bit his bottom lip and just stared at Sebastian for a moment before he suddenly bent over and kissed Sebastian tenderly.

Sebastian was too surprised to kiss him back.

Jim ended the kiss and pressed Sebastian’s face against his belly, slowly stroking the back of his head.

“You shouldn’t kiss me, I couldn’t brush my teeth in four days“, Sebastian whispered stupidly and grinned when he felt Jim’s body vibrating as he chuckled.

“I won’t try again.“ The amused tone made it obvious that he was joking.

Sebastian closed his eyes and sighed into the soft fabric of Jim’s t-shirt. Jim picked up the cloth and resumed his work, focussing on Sebastian’s back now so Sebastian could stay where he was. Eventually Jim moved on to Sebastian’s arms, wiping over his shoulders down to his elbows, his wrist, his knuckles, then turned his arms to wash the inside, all the way up to his armpits.

“You need to lean back.“

Sebastian grunted but obeyed. The back of the chair was unpleasantly cold and Sebastian shivered involuntarily as his skin touched the cool leather. Jim didn’t say anything but Sebastian could see his mouth twitching slightly. Sebastian considered complaining but then Jim sunk down on his knees right in front of him and he completely forgot what he had wanted to say. Jim smirked and let the cloth run over Sebastian’s chest. He spared the area around the wound and the injured rib but spent a lot of time at Sebastian’s V shaped obliques before he turned to Sebastian’s legs.

“Brush your teeth“, he said after dropping the cloth and wrapping a towel around Sebastian’s shoulders.

“You going to kiss me again if I do?“

Jim frowned at him.

“Don’t get cheeky.“

Sebastian decided it was better not to mention that Jim had forgotten to wash a certain part of his body and struggled to his feet instead. Next to the sink was a plastic-wrapped toothbrush and some toothpaste. While he was brushing his teeth Jim left the bathroom and returned a few moments later with clothes in his hands. Jim helped Sebastian getting dressed and guided him back to the bed. Sebastian sank down on the mattress and sighed. He was feeling much better now, although he was incredibly tired. He had completely overestimated his energy.

Jim toed off his shoes and joined Sebastian, much to Sebastian’s surprise. Without a word he slipped under the blanket and pressed his body against Sebastian’s unharmed side, draping one leg over Sebastian’s.

“Let’s sleep.“

Sebastian smiled and closed his eyes, Jim’s breath constantly brushing his neck. This was good. This was a step in the right direction. Probably.

 


	15. Chapter 14 - Sir Boast-a-lot's Stories

Chapter 14

**SIR BOAST-A-LOT'S STORIES**

  
  
“Tout es pour le mieux“, the elderly man said after dressing the wound and glanced at Jim who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Jim and Guillaume had been gone for most of Thursday - without a word, of course - and Jim had returned with a stranger who had turned out to be the doctor who had taken care of Sebastian for the last couple of days. Sebastian had spent the day in bed, reading 11/22/63 by Stephen King  that Jim had given him in the morning. Until then Sebastian hadn’t known that Jim knew about his predilection for King’s books - but then again it wasn’t much of a surprise as Jim clearly knew _everything_.

“Il faut se ménager pour quelques jours, au mieux pour une ou deux semaines.“

“D’accord.“

The doctor smiled at Sebastian before he straightened himself and put his supplies back into his bag. Jim opened the door and showed the doctor out and Sebastian pulled his jumper back down. He was already feeling much better, his broken rib was the worst part now and he was barely coughing anymore, now that his throat wasn’t dried out anymore.

Sebastian had just turned to his book when the door was opened and Jim entered the room again.

“He said you’ll be fine.“

Sebastian smiled. He had understood that part. Jim looked at him for a second with his brow furrowed before he nodded and started walking back out of the room.

“Jim?“

Jim turned around and cocked his head. “Is Bouchon…“

“Yes, he’s dead. You somehow managed not to screw that part up.“

Whatever Jim had been doing during the day it had not brightened up his mood. Sebastian hardly dared to ask his next question.

“And… Liam?“ Sebastian knew the answer already but he needed certainty. He needed to actually _hear_ it.

“Your little boyfriend was shot in the head. I have pictures if you want to see it.“

It hit him. It hit him hard. Sebastian bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. So Liam was gone. It was no surprise but it hurt nonetheless. Liam had been… Liam had been his friend. The only real connection to his life before Jim, to the boy he had been once, a long time ago.

“Oh come on, Seb, don’t tell me you’re _sad_ now.“

Sebastian lifted his head to look at Jim. Jim’s presumptuous smirk turned into a frown.

“Pathetic.“

Sebastian closed his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with Jim right now. When he heard the door opening and closing he lay back on his pillow and covered his face with his hands. Liam. _Sila_. And the perfect wedding that would never happen. Sebastian slammed his fist on the mattress but it didn’t help. Somehow Liam’s death hit him much harder than expected. Maybe because they had been able to pick up things where they had once left them. Maybe because they had bonded so well down in Marseille. Maybe because seeing pictures of his wife-to-be and their little son had reminded him that there was more to have in life than this kind of job. Sebastian sighed. He would have to visit them. Offer them his condolences.

He opened his eyes just to stare at the ceiling. No way they wouldn’t be able to identify Liam. Media always needed someone to blame, _France_ needed someone to blame and with his disappearance they would definitely shout Liam’s name over the rooftops until every single person in this country knew him as the one who murdered a presidential candidate. Sebastian was certain that Sila would never forgive him for that, no matter how grateful she was that he had saved her and her unborn child.

This was his fault.

With a plan based on luck and coincidences - he should have known better. He should have _begged_ Jim for a few more days time for preparation. _He should have known better._ Acting with precipitation was something Sebastian always tried to avoid.

Sebastian knew he had to stop thinking about it. The damage was done. It was okay to mourn Liam but it was definitely not okay to blame himself. Blame wouldn’t change anything, it would only make it harder. And Sebastian also knew that laying in bed would do him no good right now, so he carefully got on his feet and went to the living room. Neither Jim nor Guillaume were anywhere to be seen. Sebastian looked through Guillaume’s DVDs - most of them French movies Sebastian had never heard of - and finally settled on _Moonraker,_ the eleventh James Bond movie. Fortunately the DVD contained the original English audio track.

It took him not even ten minutes until he was back pondering about Liam again. James Bond had been their last topic. And Sebastian could actually remember the first time they had talked about the famous British spy, in 1995, two days before the _GoldenEye_ premiere. Two young army boys joking about how Liam was more of a Roger Moore and Sebastian more of a Sean Connery. And at the next weekend they had spent an evening at the cinema followed by a night in a pub, discussing about the pro’s and con’s of Pierce Brosnan’s debut.

 

“Got something for you.“

Sebastian startled. Somehow Jim had managed to sneak up on him and throw something into his lap without him noticing. He looked down and snorted as he saw what it was - a small translucent plastic bag with some sort of green plant in it.

“Is that…?“

“Not mine, in case you’re wondering. Found it in a drawer.“

Sebastian stared at the bag. It had been _ages_. Or at least a decade. He glanced at Jim. What was the point of that? Was this some sort of test or a genuine offer?

Jim rolled his eyes and collapsed on the free place next to him.

“Relax.“ He chuckled. “Oh, exactly that’s why I brought it to you. I assume you know how to roll cigarettes.“

Of course he did. But he still didn’t trust Jim with this. Smoking _pot_ with Jim? Jim Moriarty?

“From what I’ve heard it’s also a very good painkiller.“

“From what you’ve heard, huh?“ Sebastian started inspecting the box. As expected it contained tobacco, papers and a crusher, and additionally two more filled plastic bags. Guillaume definitely seemed to enjoy this more frequently.

Jim huffed. Sebastian carefully leaned forward - his side hurt until he found a comfortable position - and pulled a cigarette paper out of the packet and filled it with a mixture of tobacco and marihuana. He tried not to make it too strong. Guillaume had already prepared a bunch of cardboard filters. Sebastian took one and placed it on the right side of the paper before rolling the cigarette. Although he hadn’t rolled a cigarette in a long, long time it turned out quite well. The box also contained a few lighters. Sebastian picked the red one and lit the end of the joint.

Sebastian coughed. His lungs did _not_ approve. He handed it over to Jim and watched him narrowly. He had never seen Jim smoke before.

Jim coughed, too, and Sebastian chuckled, for what he received a slap on his thigh. Then Jim shuffled closer, turned around and laid down, placing his head on Sebastian’s lap, his feet dangling over the edge of the sofa. He raised his arm and held the joint against Sebastian’s lips and waited until he had inhaled deeply.

“I must confess“, Jim started and his relaxed expression turned into something more serious, “I am a bit disappointed. In you.“

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. He had no idea what Jim was talking about.

“Sebastian, do you really think I wouldn’t be able to locate a man like Bouchon without your help? Without Arnaud?“

“What… what exactly are you trying to tell me?“

Jim just looked at him with his puppy eyes. Sebastian took the joint away from Jim. He definitely needed a drag. His head felt odd, filled with smoke and his limbs got heavy.

“Jim?“

“It was a test, Seb, a _test._ Nothing but a test. There’s a bigger plan and you’re the key figure. I _know_ you’re a patient man, I _know_ I can give you any kind of job, but I _don’t know_ if you’re able to figure out a working plan all by yourself. And see what happened - you nearly got yourself killed, your boyfriend is dead and exposed and Mycroft Holmes was alerted. Be glad I was prepared for any eventualities.“

Sebastian inhaled too deep and coughed until the tears started running down his face. _What?_ Jim had done _what?_

“You set me up?!“

Jim smirked and cupped Sebastian’s face with one hand, his thumb rubbing over Sebastian’s cheek.

“Don’t be overly dramatic.“

“Liam is dead, Jim!“

“Which is not my fault.“ Jim’s fingers touched Sebastian’s lips. “And neither is it yours.“ Something in Jim’s voice made Sebastian forget that he was supposed to get mad at him. He just stared at him and felt all light and at ease. Or maybe it were the drugs. _Probably the drugs_. The marihuana calmed him.

“Sebastian“, Jim cooed and poked his right cheek.

“Don’t you think we would both benefit if you would let me in on your plans?“

“Nah“, Jim answered and blew smoke in Sebastian’s face, “That’d be _boring_.“

They both chuckled - and Sebastian realised that they were both _high as fuck_. _Jim_ was _high as fuck_. This was some high quality marihuana.

“The last time I’ve done this I was in my early twenties“, he said and leaned forward to roll another joint. Jim, still laying on his lap, groaned.

“I’ve actually never done this before.“

Sebastian stopped to stare down at Jim.

“What?“, Jim frowned, “Seb, no matter what _Sherlock Holmes_ says, it’s a bad, bad idea for someone like me to do drugs.“

He had a point. A mind like Jim was probably very prone to drug addiction.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t start now.“

Jim chuckled and wiggled his fingers until Sebastian handed him the second joint.

“I’m not sixteen anymore.“

One of the things Sebastian could not imagine was a sixteen year old Jim. Not even on drugs. Jim was one of those people who had to be born exactly that way because there was just no possibility that they’ve ever been to _school._ That they’ve ever been on a playground with other kids, that they’ve lost their teeth, bruised their knees and picked a fight. Had there ever been a mother Moriarty reading out to her little son? Sebastian couldn’t decide whether this was an adorable or a creepy thought.

“I can’t picture you as a teenager, sorry.“

“Same as today with even less body hair.“ Jim yawned, closed his eyes and held the joint out to Sebastian. Sebastian took it and chuckled.

“Thanks for the enlightenment.“

“And maybe a slightly embarrassing idea of fashion.“

Sebastian bursted into laughter. Jim only managed a faint smile.

They shared the rest of the joint and somehow their hands ended up entangled, mid-air, their fingers dancing with each other, kneading each other. It took Sebastian quite a few minutes to realise that they had never done this before. Not like that. He wondered if he could dare to bend over and kiss Jim but the location of his injury made it impossible anyway. Instead he led their hands to his mouth and lazily kissed Jim’s knuckles. Their hands smelled of weed and tobacco and smoke. Jim moaned quietly, flicked the rest of the joint on the table and buried his now free hand in Sebastian’s hair.

“You need to get rid of that“, he said and gave Sebastian’s black strands a soft tug. Sebastian nodded. He had already forgotten about his dyed hair. _Later_. No way he’d move now.

“Tell me something. Anything.“ Maybe he could take advantage of a high Jim and make him open up a little.

“Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would have not given to the child.“

That sounded oddly familiar.

“Jim, that’s _Little Red Riding Hood._ “

“That’s right, Sherlock.“

“I meant something about you.“

“Oh, _about me?_ “ Something in Jim’s tone told Sebastian that he had known that all along. His eyes felt too heavy to roll them so he just uttered a sigh to show his disapproval. Jim chuckled.

“All right. Something about me. Once upon a time there was a dear little boy who was loved by everyone who didn’t know him well, but most of all by his grandmother - probably, as both of them died when he was still very young -, and there was nothing that she would have not given to the child. You know, just the way grandmothers are. Sadly, she never gave him a little riding hood of red velvet. But one Christmas Eve, as the family was already gathered at the table, the dear little boy was still in his room, reading a book he had stolen from his father’s office, until his grandmother walked through the door and sat down by his side. `There are two kind of people in this world`, she said and ruffled his hair the way she knew he hated, `And one day you will have to chose which one you want to be.` The dear little boy did not mistake her words for a piece of advice as he was smarter than that, he could hear the threat hidden underneath her bittersweet voice and her grandmotherly smell. No matter how much perfume she poured on herself she could never hide her age and just like that she could not fully cover the true meaning of her words. There were two kind of people in this world, the one that was gathered around a table and the one that was still loafing around the streets with their hoods over their heads, the kind of people everybody expected him to become. And the dear little boy nodded and followed her down the stairs while he thought about her words and he realised that she was right in her wrong. There were to kind of people in this world and the dear little boy did not want to become Little Red Riding Hood, he wanted to be the Big Bad Wolf.“

Sebastian stared at Jim. He could still not imagine him as a teenager, not to mention as a little boy, but he somehow _could_ picture his grandmother. And then he thought about what Jim had just told him and tried to connect these new information with what he had already known about Jim but his head was too slow and too cloudy.

“That was a nice story“, he said instead and made Jim laugh.

“You are really, really high.“

“Yeah.“

“Your turn. Tell something.“

Sebastian sighed and thought about his childhood. There was not much to tell. And hadn’t Jim said that he already knew _everything_ there was to know about Sebastian?

“When I was a kid I was really fat.“

Jim bursted out with laughter.

“Amazing story, Seb, _amazing._ “

“No, seriously! I wasn’t just a little chubby, I was _fat_. Kids in school called me Swiss ball.“

Jim was still laughing, his eyes even teared up a little.

“One day in gym class we were supposed to jump over a vaulting box using a trampoline and of course I didn’t make it. I jumped and I remember thinking ´Yes! You made it!` but then my knees hit the box and I just fell over it and landed headfirst on the mat. Hilarity ensued.“ As bitter as the memory was, even Sebastian had to laugh now. “It got better, though. After that day I picked up running. Every single morning before school. And as soon as I was fit enough I started working out in the woods, climbing trees, carrying branches, pull-ups, push-ups, you name it. Made it to the top of my class in about a year. Well, at least regarding sports.“ Sebastian coughed.

“Yes, I’ve seen your grades.“

“Of course you have.“ He wasn’t even surprised anymore. “Did you look at them before or after you met me in the bar?“

Jim rubbed his eyes before he answered. They were slightly swollen and his cheeks were flushed from laughing so hard. Sebastian had never seen him like this before, not in a non-sexual context.

“Before. Had to get to know you before meeting you.“

“You know, _normally_ people get to know each other through conversations“, Sebastian said and chuckled. When Jim frowned at him he couldn’t resist any longer and touched Jim’s face with his free hand, following the shape of his facial bones. Jim’s eyebrows rose and Sebastian _had to_ touch them, too. Sebastian cursed his injury - he just wanted to bend over and kiss Jim, but he couldn’t, he had to stay as upright as possible, slightly leaning back against the cushions, and there was no way he could ask Jim to sit up.

“Sit up. I want to kiss you“, he whispered and instantly sighed inwardly, remembering that the true reason he wasn’t supposed to do drugs was notthe addictive part, but the fact that it turned him into a _bloody idiot_. It hadn’t even been a question but an order, how stupid could -

Suddenly Jim’s face was surprisingly close to his, so close he could feel his breath on his skin. Jim was on his lap, one leg to each side, but without putting any weight on Sebastian’s thighs so it wouldn’t hurt him. And that small detail threw Sebastian off. Jim was _careful_. Sebastian stared at him until Jim cocked his head and started to chuckle.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?“

Sebastian took a deep breath and put to fingers underneath Jim’s chin to guide him closer until their lips were only millimetres apart. He could feel the heat of Jim’s skin - or his own? - and he moved his fingers to the back of Jim’s head, closed the distance between them and kissed him. And the kiss wouldn’t end. When it eventually did Jim leaned his forehead against Sebastian’s and sighed.

“I’m not good at these things.“

Sebastian didn’t know what to say. Jim didn’t need reassurance. And every possible answer had already crossed Jim’s mind anyway. So instead of saying something Sebastian pulled Jim’s head back, just a bit, looked into his eyes for a few seconds before he kissed him again, more tender this time. Jim moaned and slid one hand under Sebastian’s jumper and stroked his chest, ran his fingers over Sebastian’s uninjured side, sending a shiver down Sebastian’s spine. Through all the fog in his mind he slowly began to _feel_ it and his body finally started reacting. Was Jim feeling it, too? Sebastian had completely forgotten how well sex and marihuana went together. How the drugs intensified everything. How the time seemed to slow down. He moaned and tugged at Jim’s t-shirt. More skin, less clothing.

“No“, Jim whispered and interrupted their kiss. Just as Sebastian opened his mouth to protest Jim leaned back and pulled Sebastian’s sweats down, along with his pants. Sebastian stared at his own crotch, unable to hide his surprise.

_Oh._

He was merely half hard, as time was not the only thing slowing down on marihuana, at least not for Sebastian, but seeing Jim’s hands that close to his penis was making his heart pound even faster. He didn’t dare to move. He didn’t even dare to look away. When Jim’s hands suddenly started moving his heart skipped one or two beats and he desperately tried to resist the urge to close his eyes and lean back. Whatever was going to happen, he had to watch all of it. Jim seemed to hesitate for a second, the tips of his fingers so close that Sebastian could almost feel them. Then, finally, Jim’s forefinger stroked along his length and Sebastian released the breath he had been holding unwittingly. Jim added more fingers and his movements became more and more confident. When his other hand cupped Sebastian’s balls Sebastian moaned and shut his eyes. He couldn’t watch anymore, he just couldn’t. The feeling instantly intensified, now that he could focus on only one of his senses. Jim’s hands massaged him, caressed him for what felt like an eternity.

After a while he could hear Jim moving and felt him sliding off his lap. He was already inclined to open his eyes when his sweats were pulled all the way down and Jim spread Sebastian’s legs far enough to go between them.

When Jim suddenly kissed the inside of Sebastian’s left thigh Sebastian thought he was going to have a heart attack.

“Jim.“ He moaned and reached out his hand. Fortunately Jim understood his request and entangled his fingers with Sebastian’s, letting him squeeze his hand as he placed more and more little kisses all over Sebastian’s thighs. Sebastian bit his bottom lip. On the one hand he wanted to bury himself deep inside Jim’s body, on the other hand he didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to do anything but _feel_. Feel how every touch pierced through the fog. Feel how Jim’s tongue drew a line from his knee up to the base of his penis. Feel how his penis disappeared inside Jim’s mouth.

Sebastian’s eyes flipped open.

Jim was looking at him.

Sebastian moaned. He wouldn’t last long.

Jim’s head was moving faster now.

Sebastian watched and didn’t watch and the minutes felt like hours until he suddenly felt the end approaching and he tried to warn Jim, tried to open his mouth to speak, but all he could manage was another squeeze of Jim’s hand before it was already too late. He moaned and pressed his pelvis against Jim, and Jim didn’t stop, he steadied Sebastian’s hips with his free hand and continued until Sebastian’s head fell back against the cushions.

Sebastian needed a few moments until he was able to think again.

When he finally managed to look down Jim’s eyes were still on him, his face tense. Sebastian furrowed his brow. Did he do something wrong? Was there anything - and then he noticed Jim’s erratic breathing and the movement of his right arm and he realised that Jim was busy with himself.

“Jim, come here.“ He didn’t want him to finish him all by himself. But Jim just shook his head.

“Too… late.“

Sebastian lifted his leg and pushed his foot between Jim’s arm and his body, forcing him to stop touching himself. Jim groaned and squinted his eyes.

“Jim.“

“I…“

“Jim.“

Finally Jim moved, he clumsily climbed on top of Sebastian and was about to sit down on his lap, but Sebastian didn’t let him, he grabbed Jim’s hips and pulled him closer while sliding down a bit until his mouth was in the perfect position. Jim came almost instantly. He stayed inside Sebastian’s mouth for a moment and Sebastian let him.

“Could you try not to break my fingers the next time?“, Jim asked once he had recovered his breath and Sebastian nearly choked as he started laughing with Jim still inside him. Sebastian pulled his head back and coughed.

“Sorry.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do drugs. Yadda yadda yadda.


	16. Chapter 15 - It's Going To Start Very Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA:  
> Sorry for not uploading a chapter last week. As much as I'd love to write three hundred chapters I have to finish this story eventually. And with the current pace they will probably manage to air season 20 before I'm done. A month in 14 chapters when there are still a few more YEARS waiting... anyway, I had to delete four nearly finished chapters and put them into one. Aaand here we are now.

Chapter 15

**IT'S GOING TO START VERY SOON**

 

Of course the effect of the drug didn’t last forever and soon Sebastian found himself in bed again, pretending to read his book when he was actually busy thinking about his past with Liam. He couldn’t help it. He barely saw Guillaume or Jim during the next week - Jim had only told him that they still had a lot to cover up following the events in Marseille - leaving him with nothing but Guillaume’s tiny DVD collection, one book and his own thoughts. Jim had even changed the passwords of their laptops to keep him from reading articles about Bouchon and kept refusing to give him a new phone.

 

During the second week after his return Sebastian couldn’t stay in bed any longer. He barely had to cough anymore, thanks to multiple litres of tea and a variety of medication, his fever was long gone and his wound was healing quickly. Only his broken rib was continuously bothering him but he had been through worse, so at one point he decided to just suck it up and take a walk around the neighbourhood. He had read the name of the village on a letter addressed to Guillaume but that hadn’t helped him - he still had no idea where _exactly_ he was. But wherever he was, it was quite a  beautiful, small place. Old houses, cobblestone roads. After walking for nearly an hour Sebastian was more out of breath than he had expected - and more than he would ever admit to anybody - and he decided to return to Guillaume’s home. He opened the door with the spare key he had found a few days ago and directly walked into the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Sebastian had shaved all his hair off and as he massaged his head the soft stubble felt great underneath his fingertips. Jim had woken him up last night stroking the back of his head, obviously just as fond of the feeling as Sebastian himself. Since Sebastian’s monologue Jim hadn’t physically hurt him once although he was back to snide remarks and his usual frowns, something that Sebastian was definitely appreciating. Overly nice Jim had started to become creepy.

Somehow Guillaume’s fridge was always full, despite the fact that Sebastian had started to eat at least five times a day purely out of boredom. Just as he wanted to start preparing his last meal for the day the door behind him opened and Jim entered the kitchen, bringing a blast of cool air with him.

“Huh“, Jim said, obviously startled, and blinked at Sebastian, “What are you doing?“

“Cooking?“

Jim stared at him and furrowed his brow.

“Stop. We’re leaving.“

“Everything okay?“

“Nothing to worry about. They just declared the assassination an act of terror. Which is good for us - nevertheless we should leave the country. Guillaume finally managed to get you a new ID.“

That did not sound particularly reassuring. And neither was Jim’s expression.

“Don’t give me that look, Seb, it’s _fine_.“

Sebastian glanced at the already opened pack of mince.

“Well, if everything’s fine I’m sure we have enough time to have dinner.“

Jim cocked his head and frowned for a second before he spoke. “Fair enough“, he said, shrugged out of his overcoat and sat down.

Sebastian smiled and proceeded with his work.

“Where’s Guillaume?“

“He’s already on his way to prepare the house.“

“House?“

“Yes, house. Don’t you have something better to do than asking stupid questions?“

Sebastian considered throwing a potato at him.

“If you do that, I swear I will kill you.“

He really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but how the hell could Jim always know what he was thinking? _How?_

“You stopped peeling, rolled the potato in your hand and flexed your biceps slightly. _Obvious_. Doesn’t need a bloody Sherlock Holmes to see that.“

Sebastian sighed, set peeler and potato aside and turned around, both hands propped against the worktop. Jim chuckled and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. He ripped it open.

“New ID.“ He showed Sebastian his new passport, another British one. “Sebastian Turner.“ Jim rolled his eyes. “Let’s hope you’ll manage to keep that persona for a while. Creating perfect background stories isn’t half as much fun as it used to be. Anyway, apparently my new name is _Gethin._ That’s what you get when you ask a Frenchman for an Irish passport.“

Sebastian snorted.

“Please tell me your surname is Lloyd. Or Murphy.“

“O’Reilly“, Jim answered and covered his face with both his hands. Sebastian laughed and turned back to the food. Oh, _Guillaume._ When he was done with his preparations he made a cup of tea for Jim and enjoyed the tiny, surprised smile appearing on Jim’s face as he placed the beverage in front of him.

“There you go, Mr O’Reilly.“

“Sod off.“

Sebastian bit his bottom lip, hesitating for a second before he leaned forward, grabbed Jim’s head  and kissed him. Jim muttered in discontent but Sebastian refused to let him go until Jim gave in eventually and leaned into the kiss, his hands slowly creeping underneath Sebastian’s t-shirt. This was the best change in their relationship - those few but rather passionate kisses. Sebastian had just decided to keep his tongue in his own mouth for this one as Jim took the initiative and slid his tongue between Sebastian’s lips. It was _perfect_ \- until his side started to hurt and he had to straighten himself, pulling away from their kiss. Jim hooked his thumbs into Sebastian’s belt loops and drew him closer, between his legs.

“The food is burning“, he whispered.

“Shit.“ Sebastian spun around - and nearly fell over because Jim was still holding him - to take care of their meal. “Close call.“ He fetched two plates and some cutlery and placed them next to the cooker while keeping an eye on the pans. Suddenly two hands appeared on his hips, followed by the warmth of a body pressed against his back. Sebastian startled - as always Jim had managed to sneak up on him. Then he relaxed and placed his fingers on top of Jim’s.

“I will only say this once and I don’t want any pathetic response. Liam’s family is safe, his name is cleared. Not even Mycroft Holmes knows anything because apparently he’s too busy being shocked about Bouchon’s dirty little secrets. Anyway, Sila’s number is in your new phone. Give her a call if you want to but be warned, as far as I know she is not particularly eager to talk to you. If you do, maybe try not to say anything stupid.“

Sebastian turned off the cooker and tried really hard not to react to what Jim had just said. He felt so relieved to hear that. Whatever had urged Jim to look into this and actually take steps, Sebastian was more than grateful. He owed it to Liam to take care of Sila, although he couldn’t blame her if she would never want to speak to him again.

“I can hear you _thinking_. Stop it, it’s annoying.“

“Dinner’s ready anyway.“

The hands around his waist disappeared. Sebastian sighed.

 

They moved to Cologne, into a generic two-floor terraced house that was divided in two flats. Over the course of two weeks the bottom flat’s living room was turned into a high-tech office, surveillance equipment, high-end computers and two enormous flat screen TV’s on the wall. Guillaume used one of the two bedrooms and stayed close as long as Sebastian was still recovering from his injury. Together the two of them furnished the upper flat with IKEA furniture - Jim had given them clear instructions, although Sebastian couldn’t imagine one good reason for this choice - and as soon as Sebastian was feeling well enough they set up some gym equipment in the basement. Jim managed to get hold of a newer version of his beloved armchair - that cost more than the rest of the living room furniture combined - and had it delivered the second week of April. The same day Jim introduced Sebastian to a tall young man called Adrian and his girlfriend Chrissy who moved into the second bedroom downstairs. With their arrival it was time for Guillaume to leave and Jim entrusted him with a few jobs that would have been Sebastian’s just a year ago and two days later Guillaume took a plane to Dubai to secure some old connections. Adrian started teaching Sebastian some basic German and by the end of April Sebastian managed to buy groceries without having to use his new smartphone to google words.

 

On May 6th 2012 Jim spent every waking minute in front of both TV’s in the bottom flat, staring at the constantly changing numbers on the screen, the numbers that showed the results of the second ballot. A man called Hollande was the new frontrunner and he was about to win - much to Jim’s delight. Apparently Mycroft Holmes was anything but a fan of Hollande.

“Only you would make a man president to piss off another“, Sebastian said as he lifted Jim’ legs to sit down next to him on the sofa and handed him a cup of tea. They had talked about Marseille in detail shortly after their arrival in Cologne, about everything that had happened there and how exactly Jim had been involved. Every other evening Sebastian found himself staring at Sila’s number with his thumb hovering over the call button. He never pressed it. He still didn’t know what to say to her.

“Isn’t that why you love me?“

Sebastian chuckled and rubbed Jim’s shins.

 

After Hollande’s election Sebastian finally found the courage to call Sila. All he knew was that she and her son were living in Ireland now and when he heard the line ringing he could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

“Millett.“

“Hey Sila. It’s Sebastian.“

Silence. Sebastian bit his bottom lip. And then, finally, after what seemed like hours, he could hear her sigh.

“Why didn’t you call earlier?“ Her voice was calm, maybe a little sad, but she didn’t seem to be angry, which was taking a load off Sebastian’s mind.

“Honestly, I didn’t know what to say. Im sorry. Sorry for not calling and most of all… sorry for your loss.“

“I’m not going to lie, Sebastian. I am… I am mad. At you, at him, at whoever send those men who brought us to Ireland…“

“Moriarty. It was Moriarty.“ She deserved the truth, or at least part of it. He wouldn’t tell her about Jim’s plan.

“Moriarty? He’s alive?“

“Yes, he is.“

“Sebastian, would you come to Ireland and tell me what really happened that night?“

Sebastian thought about it for a second. He was basically doing nothing important but he would have to ask Jim for permission.

“I will ask Jim and call you back later, if that’s okay.“

“Thank you.“

He searched for Jim and told him about Sila’s request. To his surprise Jim didn’t object for a second, he just gave him a short nod before turning back to the computer screen.

 

Three days later Sebastian landed at Dublin Airport and took a cab to Sila’s new flat. As normal as her voice had sounded, when she opened the door Sebastian startled. Her eyes were surrounded by thick, dark circles and her skin seemed unnaturally pale. Sebastian forgot everything he had wanted to say and just wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest and sighed.

“I am so, so sorry“, he whispered and all of the sudden he was back in Marseille, he was back in the water, drowning, while Liam’s words ran through his mind, his laugh, and he felt so lost.

Something tugged on his jacket, snapping him back into the real world. Sebastian looked down and his heart nearly stopped. They boy next to him looked exactly like a tiny version of Liam.

“Hey, Topher“, Sebastian said, let go of Sila and went down on his knees to be on eye level with him.

“Hey.“

Sebastian had only seen him once before, a couple of months after his birth. Somehow he had completely forgotten how many years had passed.

Sila asked him in and sent Topher to his room. He complained all the way up the stairs but Sila insisted. Sebastian was glad that she did. No way he could tell the whole story in front of the kid.

During the next hour Sebastian explained basically everything. He didn’t mention Jim’s superior motives and didn’t mention his relationship with him, but he did tell her anything else.

“I always knew something bad would happen someday.“ Her eyes were swollen from all the tears and she had wrapped both her hands around her cup, grabbing it so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Sebastian closed his eyes.

“Did you know I had to show him how to properly put clean sheets on a bed on his first day? He had never done it before. It was… it was ridiculous.“

Sila chuckled quietly.

“One time we were both so pissed we got lost in the woods. I woke up because I had to throw up, but because I had untied my shoelaces before falling asleep I tripped, landed on a stone and knocked myself out. He somehow managed to drag me half the way back to the barracks.“ Sebastian rubbed his face. So many memories. He shuddered and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from crying.

“Don’t blame yourself, Sebastian.“

Sila put her hand on his thigh and he realised that this was exactly what he was doing. He _was_ blaming himself. He placed his own hand on top of hers and smiled.

 

After his return three days later he felt much better than before. He had visited Liam’s grave and had finally allowed himself to shed some tears, he had talked and played with Topher and had promised Sila to come back soon.

Back in Cologne he was surprised to see Guillaume back in the flat and Jim made the three of them, Sebastian, Guillaume and Adrian, drive to Amsterdam and take care of what little was left of Jim’s old drug network. There wasn’t much to do, Sherlock Holmes had done a great job, but they managed to find some of the old leaders. A few of them had to die but others could still be useful. Guillaume decided to stay for a little longer to help rebuilding the network, but Adrian and Sebastian drove back to Cologne after nearly a week.

 

Chrissy, who was some kind of computer genius, managed to get a detailed protocol of Mycroft Holmes’ activities with a little help from a few of her friends, which turned Jim into the personification of joy one week before Pentecost.

“Happy birthday“, Jim, who had been gone for the whole day, said and threw a shoe box sized packet into Sebastian’s arms. Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not…“, he started and instantly interrupted himself as he saw the change of Jim’s expression. Of course Jim knew that it wasn’t his birthday.

“What’s this?“

“If I told you it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. Now open that bloody thing or I’ll never get you a present again.“

Sebastian looked down at the box and didn’t even try to hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected it to be an actual present for him.

Inside the packet was an antique looking wooden box. He had seen a similar one before. At first he couldn’t remember when but as soon as he held the box in his hands he _knew_. He dropped the box back into the packet and stared at Jim in utter disbelief.

“What didn’t you tell me?“

Jim chuckled.

“You didn’t even open it yet.“

Sebastian flipped the lid open and had his assumption confirmed - the box contained a _beautiful_ Colt Pocket Percussion Revolver, or more specifically the .31 caliber Pocket Model of 1849, the exact same model his grandfather used to have in a cabinet in his office, right next to the old rifle with the broken scope.

“Jim, what didn’t you tell me?“

“The word you’re looking for is _thanks_.“

Whatever this was, it couldn’t be anything good. Jim didn’t do presents. Especially not that kind of sentimental presents.

“Jim.“

“All right. Wanted to buy you a new gun, found this one by accident and thought you would like it. Which was probably stupid because those Colts are rubbish considering that their point of impact is more than a foot above point of aim so if you’d ever have to actually use it you’d probably shoot me or the furniture instead of the intruder.“

Sebastian’s thoughts were stuck at the Colt. He remembered sneaking into his grandfather’s office in the middle of the night just to take a closer look. The rifle had been broken so he had been allowed to play with it but his grandfather wouldn’t let him touch the revolver until his 16th birthday.

“You don’t do things without any ulterior motives.“

Jim chuckled again.

“Well, telling you about them would also ruin the surprise. Seb, don’t make me regret this.“

“Sorry. Thank you. Although… how did you know about the revolver? Don’t say because you know everything, I think I got that by now.“

Jim shrugged.

“It was in the file one of my men put together. Only remembered when I saw it.“

Sebastian believed him. He took the revolver out of the box and closed his fingers around the wooden butt. He could actually remember the feeling.

“You have a new plan, don’t you?“

Jim sighed and sat down next to him.

“I do. You will love it. And so will Mycroft Holmes.“

Sebastian put the Colt back into the box.

“Jim, why are you so eager to piss off the older Holmes?“

“Because I can’t do anything until Sherlock comes back from the dead and it’s a nice pastime.“

 

Every other evening, whenever Jim was still busy working, Sebastian joined Adrian and Chrissy in their kitchen and shared a bottle of wine or some whiskey. Chrissy barely talked but she was obviously smart. She was the brain while Adrian was the one to make his hands dirty. He genuinely liked both of them.

“Yes, she didn’t even talk to me when he had our first date. Completely destroyed my confidence. After an hour I asked her if she was bored and she was actually surprised“, Adrian said as he opened the second bottle of wine.

“His life was much more interesting than mine“, Chrissy defended herself and put her feet in his lap. He grinned.

“Depends on who you’re asking.“

“Not really, darling.“

Adrian shrugged.

“Anyway, after nearly seven years I’m definitely used to her silence. At least nowadays I know she’s actually listening when I tell her a story.“ 

Chrissy smiled.

 

Jim and Sebastian had sex, more often than before, and Sebastian enjoyed how Jim became more and more confident with touching him. Although their flat had two bedrooms, both fully furnished, they still used only one. They didn’t spend much time together, not with the house constantly full of people, but every now and then they shared a moment. It still surprised Sebastian whenever that happened and he always expected Jim to go back to his old abusive self, but he never did, although he refused to talk about anything personal. But no matter how different there relationship was now, Sebastian instantly knew that Jim was up to something when he wrapped his arms and legs around Sebastian to keep him close after he had just been roughly fucked on the kitchen table.

“It’s time“, Jim whispered and bit into Sebastian’s neck.

“Time for what?“

Jim chuckled.

“Oh, you will love it.“ 


	17. Chapter 16 - Prove That You Know It

Chapter 16

**PROVE THAT YOU KNOW IT**

 

 

 

Sebastian grinned as he held the front door open until Adrian had reached him, sweat running over his face, his t-shirt completely soaked. They had started working out together a couple of weeks ago and Adrian still had quite some trouble keeping up with Sebastian.

“Out of breath?“, Sebastian asked.

Adrian huffed.

“Why don’t you go and fuck yourself?“

“Nah, I’ll just go and ask Chrissy for some assistance.“

“Bastard.“

Sebastian laughed and slapped him on the back when a window was opened and Chrissy stuck her head out.

“Never“, she said and frowned at Sebastian, but the corners of her mouth were twitching. She was obviously amused. “Seb, you better hurry. The boss just came in here looking for you.“

That, on the other hand, didn’t sound very amusing. Jim had been acting weird the last couple of days and had refused to talk about whatever was going on.

“Yeah, you better run.“ Now Adrian was the one with the smug smile on his face. “You’ll join us later?“ The UEFA Euro 2012 had started a day ago and Germany would play against Portugal tonight. Jim didn’t seem to be interested in football, although Sebastian had hoped to disclose one of Jim’s secrets, now that England and Ireland were both in the competition. He still wasn’t sure whether Jim was truly Irish or just faking his accent.

“Probably.“

Sebastian ran up the stairs and entered their flat. Hopefully Jim would let him take a shower. He pulled his soaked t-shirt over his head as he walked into the living room where Jim was already waiting for him.

“Finally“, Jim muttered without taking his eyes off his laptop screen, “Sit down.“

“I just came back from a run, I should…“

“Sit down, Moran.“

Sebastian shut his mouth and sat on the edge of the sofa, careful not to touch the leather with his sweaty skin. Jim said nothing for a few minutes and Sebastian became slightly annoyed. He could have showered in the meantime. Easily. After ten minutes he sighed and flopped down on his back,   stretching himself on the sofa. Jim gave him a disapproving look, then he closed his laptop and got up from his armchair.

“Move.“

Jim was biting his bottom lip. Was he nervous? Sebastian shifted to the side and watched Jim as he sat down next to him, his legs crossed underneath him, and he put one hand on Jim’s side. Two months had passed since Marseille and their relationship had definitely stabilised. Sebastian had learned how far he could go - sometimes the hard way - and every now and then Jim made another small step towards him. They hadn’t talked about it anymore but Jim was a lot calmer around him.

“It’s time for the next step“, Jim said and smirked, “You’ll love it.“

He wouldn’t, he _definitely_ wouldn’t.

Jim opened his laptop again and turned it so the screen faced Sebastian. The picture of a rather handsome woman filled the screen, blonde wavy hair framing her soft facial features. Her lips were slightly parted, showing off two rows of perfectly white teeth.

“Laura Kirchhoff, 29. She’s an amazing woman but sadly, she was recently informed that her boyfriend was cheating on her.“ Jim pressed the arrow key and the a new picture appeared, showing a man kissing a woman that somehow looked a lot like Chrissy. Sebastian raised his eyebrows. It _was_ Chrissy.

“Poor girl. I’m sure she’s looking for someone who completely understands her. Who knows her so well it’s almost like he owns a very well researched file about her.“

Sebastian snorted.

“Luckily she made a new friend a few weeks ago.“ He switched to the next picture and this time, Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. It was a picture of the woman with a Starbucks cup in her hands and next to her was Chrissy, a bright smile on her face, one hand touching the woman’s arm.

“Laura isn’t interested in football but agreed nonetheless to come over tonight and meet her new friend’s boyfriend and her neighbours. Apparently one of them seems to be the perfect man for her.“

“Probably because he actually owns a very well researched file about her.“

Jim chuckled.

“Shush!“

So it was time for another fake relationship. Jim seemed to enjoy them, seemed to enjoy the acting and the women’s feelings. He knew them inside out before they even met for the first time, of course he always turned out to be the perfect boyfriend. It was equally fascinating and saddening to watch.

“May I ask what you’re doing this for?“

Jim shook his head.

“Not going to spoil the surprise.“

Sebastian sighed. The next weeks, maybe even months, would be hard for him. Of course he knew that Jim was only faking it, he knew Jim couldn’t care less about these women, but he would have to watch them together, see them kiss and touch and it would hurt him.

“You’ll meet her tonight?“

Jim nodded. Sebastian looked at him and gently nudged his side.

“Oh, before I forget… you are my flatmate and we programme websites for companies, so we work from home. My name is Gethin.“ He frowned as he said the name. “And for the love of God, go take a shower. You smell worse than Adrian’s food.“

“Will you join me?“

He just had to ask. This was probably the last time he’d have Jim all for himself for quite a while. And after forcing himself to sleep with Laura he wouldn’t be interested in sex with Sebastian. Besides Jim had never showered with him before, so it would be another novelty.

“Please, Jim.“

“Emotional blackmail doesn’t work on me, you know.“

“Saying please is blackmail?“

“No, the way you’re looking at me is.“

Sebastian grinned.

“Boss?“, he said and cocked his head, “Think about it. Soon you’ll have to touch a lot of curves and boobs.“

Jim snorted and pinched Sebastian’s chest.

“Seems like it’s not going to be any different.“

Was Jim just comparing his pecs to breasts? Sebastian looked down at himself. He had bulked up over the past weeks but definitely not as much as Jim made it seem. Then he looked back at Jim, noticed the small mischievous smile and realised Jim was teasing him.

“Not any different, yeah? So, do you think she can do this?“ He grabbed Jim’s t-shirt and just ripped it off his body. “Or this?“ Sebastian jumped to his feet and lifted Jim up. Jim chuckled and wrapped his legs around Sebastian to make it even easier for him. Together they stumbled through the flat into their bathroom and Sebastian pressed Jim’s back against the tiles, holding him in place while he unzipped his trousers. Jim leaned forward and kissed him, their heads leaning against each other.

“Legs down“, Sebastian whispered and wrapped one arm tight around Jim’s upper body to hold him as Jim put his legs down, his other hand pulling down Jim’s trousers and pants. Jim wiggled out of his clothes with his feet hovering a few inches above the ground and as soon as he was naked he wrapped his legs back around Sebastian’s hips, pulling him closer. Their bodies were now completely pressed against each other.

“Well, Jim, can she do this? Can she?“ Sebastian swirled them around and walked backwards into the shower, still holding Jim with only one arm, and turned the water on. Jim squeaked as the ice cold water hit his head and Sebastian nearly dropped him.

“Would you repeat that noise for me?“, he asked with a laugh. Jim reached around him and raised the water temperature, obviously not interested in reacting in any way. Sebastian felt his gym shorts soaking and slowly sliding off his hips. He used his free hand to undress himself before he turned the both of them around and pressed Jim against the wall again. He might have been bulking up but he couldn’t hold him forever.

They kissed.

The water was hot now, running over their bodies, heating them up even more as they rubbed their bodies against each other. This was good. Sebastian groaned and closed his fingers around Jim’s penis.

“You think she can get you hard just like this?“ He knew the answer and so did Jim. It was a plain and simple no. Jim buried his hands in Sebastian’s hair and kissed him tenderly. Kissed him until someone knocked against the bathroom door. This time Sebastian did actually drop Jim but gladly Jim’s body was so entangled with his that he didn’t really fall.

“Boss?“ It was Adrian.

“What?“ The tone of Jim’s voice was scary. Sebastian could nearly feel Adrian’s hesitance through the wooden door.

“Chrissy just received a text. Laura will be here in fifteen minutes. I’m… I’m sorry for the disturbance.“

“Let me down, Seb.“

Sebastian released Jim and sighed. This was the opposite of satisfaction. It was _frustrating_. Jim was already about to step out of the shower when Sebastian grabbed his hand and pulled him back into his arms.

“Seb.“

“Only one minute. I’ll have to share you for the next who knows how many months.“

“Oh, poor you“, Jim scoffed but wrapped his arms around Sebastian at the same time, gently stroking his back.

“I love you.“

“Drama boy.“

Jim gave him a short kiss before he stepped back and left the shower. Sebastian just stood there for a minute, water running over his body, before he started washing himself.

 

As Sebastian entered Jim’s bedroom - now the separate bedrooms and the awful IKEA furniture finally made sense - Jim was getting dressed, pulling a forest green v-neck shirt over his head. Sebastian furrowed his brow. He couldn’t remember seeing Jim in green before.

“Laura’s favourite colour“, Jim explained.

“Why do you never dress in my favourite colour?“, Sebastian asked as he put on some pants.

“You don’t have a favourite colour. And I don’t have to impress you anymore.“

“Fair enough. Oh, and Jim? Will you tell what this is all about?“

“Eventually.“

With this last word Jim left the room and Sebastian followed him a few moments later, through the flat, down the stairs, into Adrian and Chrissy’s living room. Adrian grimaced as he entered and mouthed an apology. Sebastian shrugged. He still wasn’t sure how much Adrian and Chrissy knew. They had never asked him about his relationship with Jim but he had also never really tried to hide it.

He sat down next to Adrian and observed Jim who was hunched over Chrissy’s office chair, talking with his voice lowered so Sebastian couldn’t understand a single word.

“Want a beer?“, Adrian asked. Sebastian nodded and thanked him as he was handed a cool bottle of beer. When the doorbell rang Jim collapsed on the second sofa, winked at Sebastian and became Gethin. His legs were spread wider than usually and he was somehow more prominent in the room with this warm smile on his face. It seemed so natural. This was Gethin, magnanimous, cheerful Gethin, a guy who enjoyed drinking a beer among his friends. Sebastian instantly disliked him.

Laura entered the room and she was nothing but the perfect match for Gethin. Jeans shorts and a light white t-shirt in perfect contrast to her tanned skin.

“Hey“, she said and showed off her perfect teeth.

“So Laura, mein Freund Adrian, unsere Nachbarn Sebastian und Gethin“, Chrissy introduced them in German, “We should try to speak English, though.“

Laura nodded, her eyes on Jim. Chrissy had definitely told her about him. Sebastian suppressed a sigh and focused on his beer. This wouldn’t be any fun.

 

They ordered some pizza, drank beer and watched the football match - Germany won - and Sebastian had to admit, after talking to Laura for a few minutes, that he actually liked her. Or would like her, if she wasn’t about to start a relationship with Jim. It was absolutely fascinating to see how Jim always seemed to give the perfect answers to her questions. And it was also fascinating to see how easy it was to manipulate a person. Jim obviously knew exactly what she wanted to hear. And the way he looked at her, with a smile so bright it caused small wrinkles by his eyes, Laura couldn’t do anything but fall for him.

Sebastian opened his third beer.

He had learned a lot about Laura just by listening to her conversation with Jim. Apparently she ran a small IT company which focused on internet security - Sebastian started to get an idea why Jim was interested in her -, was born and raised in Berlin and her favourite colour was indeed green. She played tennis twice a week with one of her five employees, besides that she rarely did any sports but kept a healthy diet, she had even given vegetarianism a try but had to give in to her love for steaks eventually.

“Hey, why don’t we go for a drink? Sebastian and I discovered this bar a few days ago during our run, it’s only a few minutes away“, Adrian proposed

 

The others instantly agreed and not even fifteen minutes later the five of them entered a small but very modern bar. TV’s were running, showing replays from the football match they had just seen, and most of the people were wearing football jerseys.

“Looks like there’s no free table“, Laura said and grimaced. Jim put his hand on her shoulder and winked.

“Leave it with me.“ With a confident smile he approached a group of fans, leaned down and somehow managed to persuade them to get up and move over to the bar.

“How did you do that?“, Laura asked him as he returned. Jim shrugged.

“Magic“, he answered and made her laugh. Sebastian barely managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “You guys sit down, Sebastian and I will get us some drinks. What you want?“

“Beer for me“, Adrian said, “And let me guess, caipirinha for you, Chrissy?“

Chrissy nodded.

“I’ll have whatever you think I’d like“, Laura whispered into Jim’s ear, loud enough so Sebastian could hear it.

“Guinness, right?“

She laughed and gave him a soft slap on the back of his head before she followed Adrian and Chrissy to the table. Sebastian wagged his head and placed his body behind Jim’s, blocking the view for everybody else.

“How much do you hate this already?“, he asked and touched Jim’s side, sliding the tips of his fingers into Jim’s trousers. Jim chuckled.

“Not as much as you do.“

Sebastian snorted and took a step forwards so his body touched Jim’s back. He just wanted to move his fingers when Jim’s body went rigid.

“Moran“, Jim hissed and Sebastian instantly retreated. He scolded himself inwardly. During the last weeks he kept crossing lines. Jim’s changed behaviour let him forget the rules from time to time, which was unlike him.

“Sorry.“

“If you can’t behave during work I will…“

Gladly the bartender finally gave them attention so Jim couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead he ordered their drinks - in German. Coke for Sebastian who didn’t even have to ask why, of course Jim had seen him drink three beers and wouldn’t allow him to have any more alcohol tonight, another beer for himself, because Jim never drank much alcohol, and a Tequila Sunrise for Laura.

“How do you know about her favourite cocktail?“

“I’ve read a few mails in which she was planning her parties. Every time she gave a list of cocktails she wanted Tequila Sunrise was the first she named.“

Sebastian once more admired Jim’s brain. He was certain that Jim had read hundreds of mails while preparing for this, probably in chronological order, and still he had managed to remember a small detail like the order of drinks on a list _and_ notice the similarities. Sebastian would have definitely missed it.

The bartender handed them their drinks and Jim paid before they carried them over to their table. When Laura saw her drink her jaw dropped.

“How did you know that?“, she exclaimed. Jim smirked.

“Magic“, he repeated. Sebastian could hardly imagine that someone actually liked this kind of answer, but apparently Laura did.

“Incredible. Thank you.“

“Yeah, thanks, Gethin.“

They clinked glasses.

Sebastian noticed the looks Laura gave Jim and he especially noticed the looks Jim gave Laura. _Gethin_ gave Laura. It would take a while for him to be okay with this. The last times hadn’t been easy either, but this was different, just as everything was different since Jim’s return. The looks didn’t even bother him, it was mainly the thought of them in bed, the thought of Jim - _Gethin_ -pulling her in his arms, brushing her forehead with his lips, their legs intertwined. _Stop._ Sebastian forced himself to push the images away. He had to focus on the job. And right now his job was to play his part.

 

Shortly after midnight they decided to call it a day. Laura had decided to take a cab home and they waited for it in front of the bar. Jim took the time to give her his number and ask her to give her a call, telling her that he had really enjoyed meeting her and that he would _love_ to see her again. The sound of his voice made Sebastian clench his teeth. When the cab finally arrived Jim opened the door for her. He didn’t kiss her goodbye, though, he only gave her one last long look before he closed the door and stepped back from the car. The second the cab disappeared around the corner he dropped the mask, dropped Gethin, and turned back into Jim.

On their way back home neither of them spoke a word. When they reached the house Adrian and Chrissy wished them a good night. Sebastian followed Jim up the stairs and forcefully shut the door behind him once he had entered their own flat.

“May I?“, Sebastian asked. Jim turned around, a puzzled expression on his face that dissolved quickly. Jim was smart enough to know what Sebastian was asking.

He nodded.

Sebastian smirked as he leaped forward and shoved Jim against the wall.

“Can she do this?“, he asked, picking up right where they had stopped earlier, pulled Jim’s t-shirt over his head and bit into his left nipple while his hands clutched Jim’s hips so tight they would probably leave bruises. Jim groaned.

“Don’t… leave marks“, he muttered. Sebastian decreased the pressure on Jim’s nipple and used his tongue instead while his hands unzipped Jim’s trousers and pulled them down, along with his pants. He steered Jim into his bedroom, picked him up and threw him onto the bed.

This would get rough.

Jim looked up at him and leered.

Sebastian grabbed the lube from the nightstand and poured some on his hands before he placed himself next to Jim. His left hand went back to his nipples - it was so easy to overstimulate him there - while he unceremoniously pushed his right middle finger into him, pressing the tip hard against Jim’s prostate. Jim squirmed. Sebastian knew it was too much for Jim, that it actually hurt him, but he also knew that Jim _liked_ the pain. Nevertheless he withdrew both his hands after a few seconds to give Jim a moment to recollect. Then he repeated the whole thing. This time he didn’t withdraw completely, instead he started moving his finger in and out, adding two more after a couple of thrusts. He made sure to end every thrust with a hard push against this point that made Jim squirm. Jim didn’t even try to fake any noises. With every second his groans became louder and louder, a mix between pleasure and pain.

“Seb“, Jim finally mumbled. He got teary-eyed, his cheeks were flushed. Sebastian gave him another extremely hard, well placed thrust combined with an equally hard pinch and enjoyed Jim’s obvious sensory overload.

“Seb, please“, Jim begged. Sebastian grinned. Jim was _begging_. He withdrew both his hands and leaned down to kiss him tenderly. Never before had he met someone who was so receptive. Normal people had erogenous zones, Jim either felt nothing at all or far too much.

After giving Jim some time to catch his breath he positioned himself between Jim’s legs and pushed them upwards until his knees touched the mattress, right next to his face. No way this position could be comfortable.

Sebastian opened his own trousers, took some more lube, then he pushed in, putting most of his weight on Jim’s lower body, hammering him into the mattress. Every thrust nearly crushed Jim.

And Jim somehow managed to grin.

Sebastian let him slide one hand down to his own crotch and increased the tempo. The position was exhausting and he wouldn’t be able to hold the pace for long - _hell,_ he wouldn’t even last long anymore.

“Hurry up“, he muttered and Jim, the bastard, chuckled. It sounded a bit strained, pained, but it was  such a cheeky reaction Sebastian decided to go a bit further. He pulled Jim’s hips closer and shifted his weight so Jim was bent even more and Sebastian could force himself straight into him. Jim cried out in pain and shut his eyes, his hand between their bodies moving faster and faster.

This was good.

And then it was over.

Sebastian shuddered, managing two last thrusts before he stilled, his chin dropped on his chest. After a few seconds he pulled back and helped Jim in a more comfortable position. Jim groaned in relief as Sebastian put his legs back down. Only now Sebastian realised Jim had actually managed to finish himself in time. He gave him a short kiss before he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed some tissues. After cleaning both of them at least superficially he collapsed next to Jim. He was still fully dressed but for the moment far too exhausted to do anything against it.

“If I find any marks on my body there won’t be any sex until this job is done“, Jim said.

Sebastian decided not to answer. Instead he slowly got rid of his clothes and, as soon as he was naked, pulled Jim in his arms. They stayed like this for a few minutes, listening to each others breathing, until Jim’s phone suddenly beeped. Jim rolled over and pulled his mobile out of his trousers’ pocket.

“She really seems to like Gethin.“

“It’s beyond me why…“

Jim chuckled as he typed his answer.

“Come on, Gethin isn’t as annoying as Jim from IT.“

“At least Jim from IT wore some sexy underwear.“ 


	18. Chapter 17 - They All Want Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irregular updates until further notice. Sorry.

Chapter 17

**THEY ALL WANT ME**

  
  
On Monday Jim went out to meet Laura for lunch. Sebastian accompanied him into the city to pick up their new suits. They had never managed to visit the tailor in Reims a second time, so Jim had dragged him to another one a few weeks ago and now, after several fittings, Sebastian had received a call this morning that their suits were waiting for ready to be picked up.

“You could take her to the zoo someday“, Sebastian said as he discovered the appropriate station on the railway network map above him.  
Jim glanced up from his mobile to frown at him.

Sebastian was slowly coming to terms with the whole thing. With Laura. It was a job, a job Sebastian had seen Jim do twice already.

 

Upon entering the shop the young woman behind the counter asked him to wait for a minute and disappeared behind a curtain. Sebastian nodded and approached the tie rack in the corner of the room. By seeing it he suddenly remembered the tie he had bought for Jim back in Marseille, which was still at the bottom of the bag he had to leave behind in his hotel room. He had completely forgotten about it. Sebastian let his fingers run over the variety of fabrics and patterns in front of him. Maybe he should buy him another one, especially since Jim’s favourite, the one with the tiny skulls, had somehow disappeared, but none of the ties managed to catch his eyes. Some of them felt rather nice but they had either the wrong colour or the wrong pattern. Not enough to please a man like Jim. And, Sebastian remembered, he still had to thank Jim for the Colt somehow.

“Bitte sehr“, a female voice behind him said and Sebastian startled and spun around. The woman had returned with two large black bags in her hands.

“Wollen Sie ihn noch einmal anprobieren?“, the woman asked.

Sebastian shook his head, and that’s when he saw the perfect shirt. The perfect shade of turquoise, the perfect _teal_. Granted, it was kind of flashy and not Jim’s usual kind of clothing but Sebastian was sure Jim would look incredible in it.

“That shirt over there… how’s it cut?“ Although he was able to understand some German, forming complex sentences was still far too difficult. Also he had soon realised that most Germans could actually speak English pretty well, or at least much better than he could speak German.

The woman approached the shelf.

“For you?“

“No, for my friend. The one the other suit’s for.“

She nodded and went through the stack of shirts.

“It’s a very slim fit. Depending on his preferences you might want to go one size up.“

Sebastian thought about it for a second but eventually decided against it.

“No, slim fit is fine. May I feel the fabric for a second?“

He took the shirt and rubbed his thumb over the sleeve. He didn’t know much about the quality of clothes but he had learned about Jim’s aversions the hard way.  And this shirt felt quite nice. If it fit Jim it would be just as perfect as the tie.

“Great, thank you. I’ll take it.“

“Anything else?“

Sebastian gave the shirt back to her before he shook his head.

“No, thanks.“

 

Sebastian paid for everything - with Jim’s money, so technically Jim was buying a present for himself, as Sebastian noticed with a smirk - and took a cab back to the house. He put the suits away and hid the shirt in his own wardrobe. Jim had asked him to move his clothes into the second bedroom and that’s what he did, stack after stack was moved across the hall. He hadn’t spend a single night in this bed, he realised as he sat down on the mattress and took a look around. The furniture was exactly the same but it felt too _clean_ , too _sterile._ Sebastian rubbed his face and put the last few shirts on some hangers. As soon as he was done he changed into gym shorts and a tank top and went to the basement to work out for a while. He didn’t stop until he was completely exhausted, although he knew it wasn’t the smartest way to exercise, but he had to get rid of his emotions. No matter how well he was _coming to terms_ with everything, Laura still annoyed him and bench pressing even more weight than usually actually helped him with that. In the gym he normally refrained from pushing himself beyond his limits.

 

Jim and Laura took it slow - according to Jim. _Gethin_ wanted to give her enough space, especially after her cheating ex boyfriend had left her heartbroken. After two weeks of dating and late night phone calls and flirty text messages Jim invited her over again, to cook some dinner and watch a couple of movies. Apparently they had kissed for the very first time the night before, so things were slowly starting to get serious. Jim made Sebastian install several cameras and microphones all over their flat and Sebastian spent the whole day fighting against the software. He was a trained sniper, not some IT specialist. In the end he had to ask Chrissy for help because his laptop seemed to be incompatible with the cameras. It took her not even ten minutes to fix the problem, plus an additional five to make fun of Sebastian.

“You’re a mean person, Chrissy“, Sebastian shouted after her as she left.

Installing the rest of the microphones took quite some time and he barely managed to finish before Laura’s arrival. He was just walking down the stairs with his hair still wet from the shower as the doorbell rung. Germany was about to play against Greece in the quarterfinals and he had decided to watch the match downstairs so Laura and Gethin had the flat all to themselves.

“Got it!“, Sebastian shouted before he opened the door and smiled at Laura.

“Hey“, he greeted her and stepped aside to let her in.

“Hi.“

“Gethin’s waiting for you upstairs.“

“Thanks. Oh, Sebastian? You’re not leaving because of me, are you?“

“Nah“, he said, completely taken by surprise. Of course he was leaving because of her.

“Have you eaten yet?“ When he didn’t answer she chuckled and grabbed his arm. “I suppose that’s a no then. Come on, join us. Gethin told me you’re the more talented cook, I’m sure we could use a little help.“

“But…“ Oh no.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Gethin doesn’t mind.“

No, Gethin wouldn’t mind, but Jim surely would. Jim would _murder_ him. But if Laura insisted he could hardly say no. Laura tugged at his arm and he let her pull him up the stairs and into the flat. While Laura was looking good in her shorts and shirt, she was nothing compared to Jim. Or at least not in Sebastian’s eyes. Dark grey linen trousers and a black t-shirt, nothing special, but combined with his slightly tousled hair and the faint scent of his aftershave Jim was more than attractive. Sebastian had seen him in pyjama bottoms and gown once too often.

Jim noticed Sebastian but his facial expression didn’t show any surprise or anger. He simply pulled Laura in his arms and kissed her. And while he kissed her he stared at Sebastian, his brow slightly furrowed. Sebastian raised his arms and mouthed an apology.

“Gethin, I asked Sebastian to have dinner with us.“

“Sure, why not.“

And Sebastian knew he was in trouble.

 

The kitchen was a bit too small for the three of them, they kept bumping into each other whenever one of them moved. It was hard not to see all the little smiles and glares and touches Jim and Laura exchanged. Sebastian didn’t mind as much as he had expected to, but every now and then, whenever Laura was busy with something else, Jim let his mask slip and showed Sebastian his annoyance. Jim’s hatred for cooking was so obvious it was almost funny.

“Sebastian, would you kindly hand me that bowl?“

The bowl she was pointing at was in the top shelf, too high for either her or Jim to reach. Sebastian, with his four inches of advantage, grinned and fetched the bowl.

“Here you go.“

“Thank you.“

They proceeded to make small talk while eating - and Sebastian had to admit that Laura was an excellent cook.

“Well, my mother was a chef before she met my father“, she told him after he had complimented the food,“She was a great teacher.“

Sebastian noticed the past tense and the glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

“So how comes you don’t have a girlfriend?“, Laura asked between two bites, changing the subject.

“Because he’s gay“, Jim answered bluntly before Sebastian could even think of an answer, making Sebastian nearly choke on his food. He coughed and coughed until his eyes watered. Jim chuckled and slapped his back.

“You all right?“, he asked. Sebastian groaned and tried to take a deep breath. He could _feel_ Jim’s amusement radiating and knew that this was part of his payback.

“Honestly?“ Laura looked at him as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah. Thanks Gethin.“

Jim cocked his head and smirked.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be so surprised, but you’re probably the least gay appearing gay person I have ever met.“

“Wait until you’ve seen him dance.“

Jim had never seen him dance before, mainly because Sebastian never danced.

“Oh, I want to see that! Why don’t we all go clubbing tomorrow? You, me, maybe even Adrian and Chrissy?“

The pure prospect of going into a nightclub let Sebastian remember the gigantic _40_ wavering in front of him. He rarely thought about his age but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was quickly approaching the new decade.

“Great idea! Chrissy surely knows some good locations.“

Sebastian couldn’t imagine Jim in such a surrounding, nor could he imagine himself. He suppressed the urge to cover his face with his hands. Jim was a great actor - but he wasn’t. He would never manage to dance the way Laura was now expecting him to.

Suddenly Jim pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Apparently it was vibrating.

“Sorry“, he said and grimaced, “I have to take this. Customer.“ He swiftly got up from his chair and left the kitchen. Laura turned to Sebastian and grinned.

“So, what about a boyfriend?“

Sebastian chuckled. Time for him to get grilled.

“I’m not really boyfriend material.“

“Oh, I’m sure you just haven’t found the right one yet.“

“Maybe.“

Sebastian didn’t believe in _the one_ and he didn’t believe that everybody’s ultimate goal was to find a partner. He had never been interested in marriage and family and he couldn’t imagine having a normal relationship, just as he couldn’t imagine having a normal job. But Laura was obviously different. She was looking for a normal guy with a normal job to have a normal relationship with a normal dream wedding and a bunch of normal kids.

“Oh, just look at yourself. I’m sure you’ll find a great guy someday.“

“Yeah, you’re right.“

 

After dinner Sebastian grabbed his laptop and excused himself. He decided to go to his bedroom instead of visiting Chrissy and Adrian. Somehow he didn’t really need any more company tonight. He opened his laptop and selected the cameras in the living room. A window popped up and he could see the two of them on the sofa, each holding a glass of wine, Jim’s arm draped around her shoulders. Sebastian hit the record button - as he was supposed to do - and sat down on his bed. The good thing about their plans for Saturday night was that he could finally give Jim the shirt he was still hiding in his wardrobe.

Jim and Laura weren’t doing anything interesting, so Sebastian googled a live stream of the ongoing football match and watched the game instead, although with the sound muted so it wouldn’t interfere with the recording.

“Gethin?“, Sebastian heard Laura ask.

“Hm?“

“You think it’s possible that Sebastian… well… likes you?“

“In a gay way?“

Laura chuckled.

Sebastian minimised the stream and looked at the two of them on the sofa, now cuddling, her head on his chest.

“Yes.“

“Well, you can’t blame him for doing so.“

Sebastian was instantly annoyed.

“So… I’m right?“

She looked up at him and Jim nodded before he leaned down to kiss her head.

“Wow. And yet you moved in with him? Did he ever… try anything?“

“No. He’d never do that.“

Sebastian realised only now that he had been clenching his fists. He took a deep breath and relaxed his fingers. This conversation was making him _sick._ If Laura decided not to stay the night he would definitely go and show him all that he could possibly imagine to _try_. He hated this kind of stereotypes and Gethin’s patronising behaviour was absolutely awful.

“You’re such a good person.“

Sebastian closed the window and switched back to the football match. Screw the recording - Jim wouldn’t watch it anyway. Germany won 4:2 over Greece and as soon as the final whistle sounded he got up and went to the bathroom to get ready for the night. After brushing his teeth he undressed and left the bathroom wearing nothing but his pants and instantly bumped into Jim.

“Done?“

Sebastian nodded and glanced over Jim’s shoulder to see if Laura was around. The door to the living room was left ajar with light shining through the gap, so Laura was still here.

“You’re such a good person“, Sebastian whispered.

Jim laughed softly and poked him in the chest.

“Did we hurt your feelings?“

“Takes more than that.“

“Why don’t you keep watching, then? I’m sure you’ll like what I’m going to do with her.“

Sebastian knew exactly he would get punished for what he was about to say but he had to say it.

“Good luck trying to get a boner without thinking about me.“

Jim’s eyes were locked on Sebastian’s as his knee hit Sebastian’s crotch. Sebastian doubled over in pain, a pathetic whimper escaping his mouth, but the pain was definitely worth it. He leaned back against the wall and waited for the pain to abate while Jim disappeared in the bathroom.

 

Sebastian barely slept during the night and apparently neither did Jim. While Laura was busy blabbering and preparing breakfast Jim could barely keep his eyes open. Nothing had happened during the night, as Sebastian knew because he had listened to them while trying to fall asleep himself, and Laura had asked Jim to wait a little longer.

“One or two fried eggs, baby?“ Her fingers touched his shoulder, ran up his neck and over his head, digging themselves deep into his hair.

“One, thanks.“

“And you, Sebastian?“

“Two, please.“

Laura nodded and was just about to turn back to the cooker when Jim grabbed her arm, pulled her down to him and kissed her softly.

“Food’s burning“, she whispered and pulled back.

They had breakfast and as soon as they were finished Sebastian went to the basement to work out for a while - and to give the other two a bit of space. When he returned an hour later they were still sitting in the kitchen. Sebastian walked past the closed the door and entered the bathroom. He stripped naked and took a long, hot shower. He propped one arm against the wall and leaned his forehead against it, the water running over his back. Minutes passed and Sebastian tried not to think of anything, focussing only on the feeling of the water on his skin, on the steady noise, the warmth. He was just about to doze off when he finally moved and stretched his body. He jerked off, more out of habit than anything else as he hadn’t slept with Jim in two weeks, and then finished to wash himself. After he finally made it out of the shower he wiped himself dry and tied the towel around his hips before he left the bathroom. The last thing he wanted to do was to accidentally flash Laura. But apparently she was already gone, because the flat was quiet and he found Jim sitting on his bed, Sebastian’s MacBook on his lap, leering at him as he entered the bedroom.

“All in all I’d give it a five out of ten“, Jim said and turned the laptop around so Sebastian could see the screen - it was showing a still of the bathroom camera with him in the shower, obviously busy with himself. Sebastian huffed and approached his wardrobe.

“You could have joined me.“ He didn’t even have to turn around to see Jim frowning at him. He dropped his towel and put on some pants and shorts and a simple white t-shirt and startled when all of the sudden Jim appeared beside him and grabbed his wrist.

“I’m tired, Seb.“

“No sleep or bad sleep?“

“The former.“

Sebastian nodded, let Jim pull him back to the bed and lay down next to him. Jim rested his head on Sebastian’s chest and closed his eyes and Sebastian wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. Sebastian could smell Laura on Jim’s skin, on his clothes, a faint trace of fruits and flowers.

“Wake me up around seven.“

Sebastian kissed his head. After a few minutes he heard Jim’s breathing slow down, becoming deep and steady. Sebastian set an alarm on his mobile, just in case, and closed his eyes, too. He could use a few more hours of sleep.

 

Sebastian was just driving his car through the jungle when the radio switched from Slayer to a repetitive ringing noise. It confused him and he stared at the little display in front of him, his brow furrowed, when he suddenly felt pain flashing through his face.

“Turn it off!“

The pain returned, stronger this time, and Sebastian woke up.

“What the…“, he mumbled and tried to cover his face with his hands.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.“ Something climbed on top of him, pressing the air out of his lungs, and the weird ringing noise finally stopped. Sebastian grunted and wrapped his arms around the body on top of him.

“Hey, Jim.“

“Let me go.“

“All right.“ Sebastian released him and rolled over on his side. All he wanted was to get back to sleep, close his eyes and get back to sleep. He heard Jim climbing out of bed and walking out of the room and a few moments later the shower started running. The noise of the water was calming and Sebastian instantly dozed off again.

 

“Get up.“

Sebastian startled.

“Move, Moran.“

Jim was leaning against the doorframe, buttoning his grey shirt, and Sebastian slowly sat up.

“Wrong shirt“, he said as he stepped out of bed, “Definitely the wrong shirt.“

Jim frowned at him. He seemed tense. Sebastian approached him and, without hesitating, started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Moran“, Jim said and sounded dangerously calm.

“Please, let me.“ He pushed the shirt off Jim’s shoulders and slid his arms out of the sleeves. “Close your eyes.“

“Moran“, Jim repeated but Sebastian held his gaze until Jim followed his instruction. Sebastian fetched the shirt he had bought and carefully unfolded and unbuttoned it before he put it on Jim. The sleeves turned out to be just a tad bit too long but the rest of the shirt fit perfectly. Gladly the tailor’s apprentice had remembered his measurements correctly. Sebastian steered Jim towards the wardrobe and opened the left door until he could see both their reflections in the mirror on the inside.

“All right. Open your eyes.“

Jim stared at himself and managed not to show any reaction at all. Which was probably a good sign.

“I know it’s a bit flashy, but…"

“Seems like I bought myself a present.“

Sebastian chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, you did. You like it?“

“Get dressed, Seb.“

Sebastian obeyed and changed into navy chinos and a linen shirt. No answer was normally a good answer. 

“Prepare some food when you’re ready.“

“Any special wishes?“

“No. Call me when you’re done, I’ll be downstairs.“

Sebastian finished buttoning his shirt before he went to the kitchen and checked the fridge. They still had a little more than two hours left until they had to leave, so Sebastian decided to make some lasagna. With only a couple of minutes left on the timer he fetched his mobile and gave Jim a call to tell him that dinner was about to be ready. He had just pulled the gratin dish out of the oven when Jim entered the kitchen.

“So where exactly are we going?“, Sebastian asked as he portioned the food.

“Chrissy knows a few places, they’re all basically in the same spot.“

“Here you go. Enjoy your meal.“

 

The four of them met Laura in front of one of the many nightclubs. She was wearing a beautiful navy dress and as soon as she noticed Jim she walked towards them with a big smile on her face, wrapping her arms around his neck as she reached him. They kissed, and she kept her hand intertwined with his as she turned to greet the others.

“Well“, Chrissy started, “that’s one of the fanciest nightclubs in Cologne. No idea if we can make it in. If we don’t, I know some alternatives.“ She pointed towards the building where Laura had been waiting. Jim huffed, but Sebastian wasn’t so sure they would be able to get past the bouncers. They weren’t the youngest anymore and unlike usually they weren’t wearing Westwood or bespoke clothes, because Laura was supposed to think that they weren’t that well of. So when they approached the queue Sebastian was actually feeling kind of nervous, but the bouncer let them pass without a second look. Each of them received a card they were supposed to buy their drinks with, then they entered the ground floor area. It was still early, so the place wasn’t that crowded yet, but the house music was already annoying Sebastian after a few minutes. For him there was nothing better than a pub. But if Jim wanted Laura to think that Gethin enjoyed the nightlife that’s what they had to do - clubbing, dancing, partying.

“There’s a lounge area upstairs“, Chrissy explained.

“Okay, why don’t you girls find us a place and we get some drinks?“, Adrian proposed and the others approved. Chrissy and Laura left together and the rest of them approached the bar.

“Try a smile, Seb“, Adrian said and poked Sebastian in the ribs, “Just dance with Chrissy, she’s amazing.“

“You do this often?“

“Once a month maybe.“

They got their drinks - Jim didn’t object when Sebastian ordered something alcohol-containing for himself - and went upstairs. They found the girls in a corner, hogging a sofa and two lounge chairs. Adrian and Chrissy picked the chairs, leaving Sebastian no other option than to sit awkwardly next to Laura and Jim who seemed to be trying to melt into one body. Her hand wandered over Jim’s thigh and soon they were busy kissing while Adrian told some stories about his past that nobody really cared about. It was Chrissy who finally broke the awkwardness with pulling Sebastian to his feet and announcing that the five of them were supposed to go dancing now. Sebastian suddenly felt some deep gratitude towards her. Chrissy dragged him to the dance floor downstairs and wrapped her arms around him. She obviously knew how to move her body.

“Komm schon“, she shouted and tugged at Sebastian’s arms. He sighed and started shifting from one foot to the other.

After his second drink he felt much more confident to move to the rhythm of the music and he had to admit that he was starting to enjoy the evening. Chrissy was indeed an incredible dancer and Adrian made up for his lack of talent with diverse musical impressions.

“Move your hips“, Chrissy shouted put her hands on his hips to guide him. Jim must have told them about his lack of interest in dancing because he had surely hadn’t mentioned it. Following Chrissy’s instructions was surprisingly easy and after overcoming his natural inhibitions he actually managed to dance, although not as well as the rest of them. Laura and Jim had separated themselves from the group and were quite busy with each other but Sebastian just didn’t pay them any attention. He wasn’t surprised to see Jim moving his body in such a perfect way. Jim wouldn’t have agreed to this otherwise.

Sebastian got lost. The lights, the music, the singing of the crowd, the way his body moved. The dance floor was packed now, people pressed against people, moving to the rhythm to the beat. It was hot and sticky and Sebastian couldn’t help but to go with the flow. Until suddenly something caught his attention - a weird expression on Jim’s face. An expression he couldn’t place until Jim took an unsteady step back from Laura and was lit by one of the spotlights. It was pain, very well hidden pain. Jim said something to Laura before he staggered through the crowd towards the toilets. Sebastian instantly stopped dancing and followed him across the dance floor. He was too broad to scurry his way through the people and it took him a few rude elbow hits to get through the crowd.

“Jim?“ He grabbed his arm as he finally caught up with him. Jim squinted at him.

“Head“, he managed to say through his clenched teeth. He pulled Sebastian with him and only just managed to reach one of the stalls before he dropped to his knees and threw up into the toilet.

“Shit, Jim…“

“The lights… and noises…“

Sebastian crouched down and patted Jim’s back because he didn’t know what else to do. Jim hadn’t had any trouble with his health for the last weeks, for the last _months_ , and they hadn’t brought any kind of medication with them.

One of the security guys appeared, looking already quite annoyed.

“Ey! Ich denke die Party ist hier zu Ende.“

“He’s not drunk, he doesn’t even drink.“, Sebastian replied, “He had a head injury a year ago. I’ll help him out as soon as he feels a bit better.“

The man seemed a bit confused but after telling him to make sure Jim was leaving the club - in German - he left them alone. A few other guys were staring at them and Sebastian repositioned himself so he was blocking their view on Jim who was now leaning against the wall, both hands pressing against his eyeballs.

“Do you think you can get up?“

“Minute.“

Sebastian wrapped one arm around him, pulling him back a little so he didn’t lean against the dirty bathroom tiles anymore but Sebastian’s chest instead. Jim spit into the toilet and groaned.

“Okay. Okay.“

Jim let Sebastian help him to get back on his feet and Sebastian steered him out of the Gent’s. The security guy was standing in front of it and escorted the both of them to the entry. Sebastian gave both their cards to the woman behind the checkout and paid for their drinks before he turned to the man in black.

“I’d like to go back in and tell our friends that we’re leaving, if that’s okay.“

The man gave him a short nod.

“Stay here, Jim. I’ll be back in a second“, Sebastian said to Jim as they reached a free spot outside the nightclub. Jim didn’t answer, he was still covering his face with one hand.

“Can I leave you alone?“

“Yes.“ Jim’s voice was strained. Sebastian carefully kissed his forehead and went back into the club. Laura nearly jumped him when he finally found them.

“Where’s Gethin?“, she asked instantly.

“He’s not feeling well“, Sebastian explained, shouting into her ear, “His head… he gets that sometimes… I just wanted to tell you that I’ll bring him home now.“

“What? I’m coming with you!“

“No. Laura, no offence, but I think he needs some rest.“

In that moment Sebastian saw the disapproval in her face and realised that something had changed between the two of them since Jim had told her that he was somehow in love with Gethin. Not that he couldn’t care less. Especially not right now. But it would definitely become a problem in the future.

It took him a few seconds to explain the situation to Adrian who decided to stay a little longer, then he hurried back outside.

 

Twenty minutes later the cab stopped in front of their house. Sebastian paid the driver before he helped Jim out of the car and up into their bathroom. He rummaged their medical supplies until he found what little was left of Jim’s pain medication and brought it to him along with a glass of water.

“Do you need anything else?“, Sebastian asked as he helped him out of his clothes.

“No.“

“Laura is mad at me because I didn’t let her come with us. Just so you know.“

Jim closed his eyes and leaned his head against Sebastian’s shoulder.

“If you let her see me like this - if you let anybody see me like this, I’ll…“ He didn’t make it any further, he spun around and threw up a second time, this time all over their bathroom floor. Sebastian grabbed him and helped him to the sink so he could wash his mouth, then he brought him to his bed. Seeing naked Jim in foetal position, one hand pressed against his face again, made Sebastian clench his fists. There was nothing he could do to help - and it was his _job_ to help. He sighed and covered him with the duvet.

When he came back from the bathroom a few minutes later - cleaning the mass had taken longer than expected - Jim was already asleep. Carefully Sebastian climbed into bed and spooned Jim, one hand on his chest to hold him tight.

So this had been their first trip to a nightclub together. Not as bad as expected but definitely nothing Sebastian had to repeat. Especially not with such an outcome. He softly kissed Jim’s shoulder and neck before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep.


End file.
